That Never Happens

Something very strange happened tonight.

Patricia and I went together for dinner at Parma, a restaurant in Fresno frequented by clan Hukins. We walked in and were greeted by the owner and the regular staff. We sat down and looked at the menu. We made some more chit chat with the staff, ordered and waited for our meals to arrive.

Gradually, it dawned on us that something unusual had just happened. No one had asked after Dad. No one mentioned him, looked twice for him or in any way referred to his absence.

Those of you who have been regular readers of this blog will understand why we were filled with wonder and a certain amount of satisfaction. As a general rule, whenever we go anywhere without him, Dad's ghost haunts us and we end up feeling unappreciated because everyone we meet leans around us looking for him.

Tonight we were the special people because we were the ones there. Now that's customer service. Thank you again Parma.