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Wednesday: date night at Woods Hill Table
Aug. 16th, 2023 11:00 pmR. and I had date night at Woods Hill Table. We were a little late, around 6, so we got the last two spots available. We were between a couple women, who were dithering between the bar and a table, and two men, who were already seated. We chatted, and ordered and drank and ate oysters and generally had a really nice time. I got the off-menu cocktail with the duck and the red circle slash through it. It was yummy. I also had the flip on the cocktail menu. Fries, salad, oyster. Mmmm.
Anyway.
The whole time I’m overhearing bits of a conversation between the men to the side of me, which was a convoluted discussion of the complexity of juggling holidays that are from various communities and supporting black lives matter but the color black being a bit of an issue in some other communities and not setting black people up to be the target of other minority group’s negative responses and so forth. It was the kind of conversation that is a bit delicate, and they were being reasonable sensitive about the whole thing and I had no particular issue altho I was also thinking, boy, step just a little bit to any side and y’all could get into a world of hurt with somebody.
Then I realized I recognized at least one of those voices. So I turned, took a good look, turned back, thought about the faces, and realized who one of them was. I asked R. if it was — R. had no clue. So I turned back, said hello, asked if he was, and yes, he was, and then I realized I knew the other guy, too. He couldn’t quite remember me, so I reminded him of an awkward conversation we had in his office in the aftermath of the blowup with D., years ago, when he was still principal at my daughter’s elementary school. The other gentleman — the one I recognized first — was his boss, and still holds that position. There was a funny bit where he was up for a position in Newton, and I said to R., I hope someone warns him, but he withdrew from consideration for that position so I have to assume that someone did.
For the record, Newton is an amazing school district, and every single parent I’ve ever talked to who lived in that school district unburdened themselves of an amazing amount of vitriol when asked how it was to have kids in that district. I can only assume that this is what it is like to live in an absolute pressure cooker of upper middle class ambition. It’s not like my district is immune to it, but it is something to realize that it can be a lot worse.
I’ve since been enjoying telling people this story on FB and elsewhere. The person I am carefully not identifying asked more than once if I was happy with our district, and I am and thought it was a boring question and it took me a day or two to realize, oh, hey, he’s reviewing what he said over the last hour and hoping this does not come back to bite him. Ha ha ha. It’s fine. Like I said, I had no issues with his perspective on the very difficult conundrum he was discussing. He also said he has a policy of not eating out within 10 miles of his job and that’s a good policy that he definitely violated this night (which he also acknowledged).
I feel like I should eat out at more expensive bars and eavesdrop on conversations. I might learn a thing or two.
Anyway.
The whole time I’m overhearing bits of a conversation between the men to the side of me, which was a convoluted discussion of the complexity of juggling holidays that are from various communities and supporting black lives matter but the color black being a bit of an issue in some other communities and not setting black people up to be the target of other minority group’s negative responses and so forth. It was the kind of conversation that is a bit delicate, and they were being reasonable sensitive about the whole thing and I had no particular issue altho I was also thinking, boy, step just a little bit to any side and y’all could get into a world of hurt with somebody.
Then I realized I recognized at least one of those voices. So I turned, took a good look, turned back, thought about the faces, and realized who one of them was. I asked R. if it was — R. had no clue. So I turned back, said hello, asked if he was, and yes, he was, and then I realized I knew the other guy, too. He couldn’t quite remember me, so I reminded him of an awkward conversation we had in his office in the aftermath of the blowup with D., years ago, when he was still principal at my daughter’s elementary school. The other gentleman — the one I recognized first — was his boss, and still holds that position. There was a funny bit where he was up for a position in Newton, and I said to R., I hope someone warns him, but he withdrew from consideration for that position so I have to assume that someone did.
For the record, Newton is an amazing school district, and every single parent I’ve ever talked to who lived in that school district unburdened themselves of an amazing amount of vitriol when asked how it was to have kids in that district. I can only assume that this is what it is like to live in an absolute pressure cooker of upper middle class ambition. It’s not like my district is immune to it, but it is something to realize that it can be a lot worse.
I’ve since been enjoying telling people this story on FB and elsewhere. The person I am carefully not identifying asked more than once if I was happy with our district, and I am and thought it was a boring question and it took me a day or two to realize, oh, hey, he’s reviewing what he said over the last hour and hoping this does not come back to bite him. Ha ha ha. It’s fine. Like I said, I had no issues with his perspective on the very difficult conundrum he was discussing. He also said he has a policy of not eating out within 10 miles of his job and that’s a good policy that he definitely violated this night (which he also acknowledged).
I feel like I should eat out at more expensive bars and eavesdrop on conversations. I might learn a thing or two.