From the busy highway, a long line of vehicles keeps turning left into the crowded parking lot. Every day of the week headlights beckon us in to come, sit, and eat pizza. Massive, Chicago-style deep dish pizza. Have you tried Oreganos? When I noticed the Arizona pizza chain was opening here, I was skeptical. For mysterious reasons, whatever joint went in the vacant restaurant on the busy corner seemed to fizzle and fade away. I’m pretty sure the last restaurant in that space mysteriously caught fire. Nothing seems to stick.
Now freshly opened, the cars keep turning and the parking lot is always full.
We had to know what we were missing.
We’ve been twice now and we’re hooked. Delicious cheese, buttery crust, drinks the size of your face – diners beware – they serve family style meals and when Dylan and I went just the two of us we came home with leftovers for twenty.
So there we were, Friday night, joining the stream of eager eaters. We put our name on the list and we waited. And waited. And waited.
Across the room, perched on a black barstool, was an older gentleman. Wearing a suit, worn leather shoes, red suspenders and a dusty grey Fedora. His aged hands sat folded in his lap, and another couple my age were chatting with him quietly, shoulders leaning in to cut the noise around them.
Many moments past. The waitress called the woman’s name, and the couple stood and said their good-byes to the man as they were led to their table.
And then, moment’s later, the woman my age was back.
“Would you like to eat with us?” she asked the older gentleman leaning gently towards his ear.
I don’t know what he said, but his face magically morphed.Have you seen faces change when loneliness turns to light?
The waiter walked their new guest to the table and he placed his hat on the coat rack near the booth before taking a seat.
I only watched the last few minutes of the exchange. I don’t know why that man was there by himself, dressed up fancy on a Friday night. I do know his eyes looked sad and the invitation from another added just a tiny bit of sparkle.
I started tearing up standing in the foyer.
“You gonna be alright?” Dylan asked, gently poking my side.
“Mmhmm” I nodded with my hand covering my mouth.
As we waited, fires burned, politicians scrambled, hearts broke. Fear and uncertainty abound. But in the busy Italian restaurant, one brave woman asked a simple question and connections were formed. One beautiful gesture.
Those people asked a stranger to eat with them and it changed his whole night. Seeing people need not be difficult.
I hope they had a delightful dinner.
52 Beautiful Things 