I hope you have a favorite place to go out to eat. I’m here to tell you that it takes a long time to not only make old friends, but to find a good place to go out to eat. 

I sometimes get sucked up into the things on my home page that want to tell me all about the best places in each state to eat.

To have the very bestest, strangely weirdest, Mt. Vesuvius biggest or some other line of adjectives that will make my mouth water just thinking about going in and stuffing something amazing into my pie hole.

Then there are times when it isn’t the place or even the food so much as the company around the table that makes the going out such fun.  

That is what happened to me recently. I went to lunch. Or maybe it was a luncheon. Not sure. So I looked up to see what the difference is. 

Oh I am so just a lunch girl. A luncheon, as I read is the same as a lunch, eaten at the same time, around lunchtime. But! 

Yes a fancy smanchie “but.” But at a luncheon you are not allowed to eat your burger with your hands or point at something funny with a French fry and laugh while reaching for yet another fry.

This was an all out lunch was with two ladies. One I knew and she invited the other. This third girl added to our fun was a lady I had heard tell of for many years and finally I had a chance to meet. 

The wait was well worth it. She is a firecracker. The three of us hit it off grandly and it was a giggle fest of the best nature. 

I couldn’t help but to wonder later on if they had as good a time as I did. See I seem to always have a good time. 

I think that circumstances can be in your favor or against you. Of course over time I have learned to listen more than talk. I might add that sometimes I might need a cork or I will just keep spewing. 

I can still hear my father telling his children to be seen and not heard. Which works out well unless there are only two people in a conversation.

But this was a full throttle, three at the lunch table, non luncheon lunch. I am always afraid of making an off hand remark and then having to explain my remark.

Or maybe dropping a big gob of something on my self. Then you have two options. One you try to hide it. 

But come on a streak of salsa on the front of a blouse can only be hidden if you are wearing something with lots of flowers or geometric designs.

Note to self, never wear solids. Or you can point it out and say something clever like, “Well must be my turn in the barrel.” 

Then do a little house cleaning at the table knowing that you are now the one at the table that everyone else is giving thanks to high Heaven’s it wasn’t them.

Either way just move on. I take to heart that I have been in all those shoes. I would hazard a guess that we all have at one time or another.

Then there is the dilemma of seeing something that needs attention. Food on someone who has no idea there is food on their front, or chin, stuck in a tooth.

 Did you know that if you are riding a bike and you see something in the road that you need to go around, if you keep looking at it chances are you will ride right over it? 

I can attest to this one as it has happened to me more than once and I have a friend who had it happen to her too. 

So please note that when you are having a meal and you spot a spot or a leaf or a seed on someone you cannot look away. It can get kind of hypnotizing. 

You know you should do or say something but not wanting to embarrass your food mate you can try to look away. 

But your head gets sucked back to look again and again. So say something. Anything so you don’t find yourself looking at the chest or mouth of someone and then lose your spot in the conversation. 

Which in itself is a bit embarrassing.

Meals with friends have pitfalls and road rash can come on you so fast that you find yourself happily saying, “No, please let me get the check.” It was truly my pleasure ladies.

Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Her new book, They Call Me Weener is available on Amazon.com or email her at itybytrina@yahoo.com to find out how to get a signed copy.

Really!