Table for One

You know those moments when you're not at all feeling insecure about something, and then it pops right out in the open?  I had one of those moments this evening at Pizza Express.  I requested a table for one, naturally, after my visit to Harrods, and then had to stand there while the waiter yelled across the restaurant, "She needs a table for ONE!" to his colleague.  I appreciated the expiditious service, but could have done without the whole restaurant looking at me as I stood there all by my lonesome.

However, upon further examination, I am choosing to file this under the category of "experiences you don't usually get when you meet your husband when you're in second grade", which is a subcategory of the folder "character-building experiences", as I'm sure my brave friends who have moved to a new city alone will attest to.  I'm actually relatively pleased with how I'm coming along.  I've started picking up on British jargon so I don't sounds like a clueless tourist (such as "pudding", which means dessert, and saying "baguette" with a soft 'a' and the emphasis on the 'ette').  I am shocked by how well my sense of direction is serving me, as this is generally NOT one of my strong suits.  Another crucial realization was that when someone says, "Are you okay?", it's the same as when we say, "How are you doing?" in the U.S.  For a few days there, I thought I must look terrified or something.  Glad to know that's not necessarily the case.

To get back to Pizza Express, this was one of my and Megan's favorite places when we were here in college.  I learned that the caesar salad we enjoyed so much is actually not that good, but that the pizza did the trick.  As did the chocolate truffle ice cream...yum!  Definitely a good option when you want something reliable and basic, and they're all over London (www.pizzaexpress.com/).