4 Non Blogs

Last Friday, after an appointment in town, Mark and I, overcome by hunger, gave into temptation and headed for our favourite Indian restaurant.

A bit of background here. Ganges is located just one block from where I used to live. My friend Lisa lived in the same building two floors above me. We used to order food from Ganges…a lot. All we had to do was phone up the restaurant, and place our order. They knew who it was for based on what was ordered - perhaps it was the demand for extra mint sauce that gave it away. They would then simply ask if they were delivering to apartment 7 or 9 this time.

When Mark moved to Canada, and into my apartment, he was more than happy to be initiated into the Ganges Gang.

Sadly, as required by British and Canadian law in exchange for Mark moving here, Lisa moved to the UK later that year. Mark and I went on ordering from Ganges on a regular basis until we moved to the condo.

Although it wasn’t that far away, the condo wasn’t in Ganges’ delivery zone and we thus enjoyed delicious Ganges less and less often. However, in spite of our now infrequent visits, we were still remembered whenever we dropped into the restaurant for supper.

Two years ago, we sold the condo and moved to the ‘burbs. Ganges was all but a distant memory.

When we dropped in on Friday night for supper, we were delighted to find that even after all this time we were still remembered and heartily welcomed. We were also presented with complimentary desserts. Sadly, we were a) totally full after having stuffed our faces with the food we love but hardly ever have anymore and b) Mark doesn’t like the particular dessert we were served. Given our warm welcome, and the gift of complimentary desserts, I had no choice but to force both desserts down. Then I exploded.

It was a lovely supper, and it made us feel warm and fuzzy to be remembered.