Tuesday Evening ... No pizza?!

At the risk of undoing all the training work we've done at our regular pizza place, for the second consecutive week Joel wanted to go for a sandwich. This time, he called for the hot sausage sandwich of the Norwood Inn. (See Busy Saturday Afternoon)

Having come directly from work and remembering the clientele on Golf Outting Saturday, I wondered if my yellow, short sleeved shirt and dress shoes were going to stand out. I briefly entertained the notion of declining or asking to swing by the house to change clothes. Oh well... it'll be an adventure! right?

This time, knowing where we were going, it was easy to find the place. When we arrived, I was a little bit surprised to see the large number of large pickup trucks in the parking area. There was one car and one guy on a motorcycle apparently considering whether this was the kind of place a biker should set foot in.

When I walked in, the guys at a rail overlooking the pool table turned, ready to greet a regular and saw some guy in a yellow shirt, dress pants, and church shoes; they quietly returned to observing the game of eight ball and sharing thoughts on the problems of the world. The chairs at the bar were occupied but three of the four tables were available. I picked a table bathed in a neon glow near the door. Joel noted that the table appeared to have just been cleaned and found it acceptible... after a quick wipe with a napkin or two.

The tuesday night crowd of about twenty apparent regulars were talkative among themselves but afforded us ample opportunity to quietly soak in the ambiance. Someone said something about mostly being plumbers, farmers, and wanna-be farmers; the clothing was consistent with that description: work boots, blue jeans, flannel jackets, one or two Carhartt work jackets; I should have changed.

Soon, our waitress came out and took our order for one of the renowned hot sausage sandwiches; this time, I had the sense to ask for it cut in two and served one half to each of us. That was no problem. When I asked for a half order of onion rings, that wasn't gonna happen; that's alright, having maintained my regimen of stretching and conditioning, I was confident I could handle a full order.

The sandwiches came and were again quite tasty. The Norwood customers thinned out ... make that dwindled in numbers and we enjoyed just being around the action without actually being in the action until... a different waitress approached our table with a couple of hot ham and cheese sandwiches and asked if they were ours. Two guys at the table behind me claimed them. A few seconds later, Joel spoke up. "Lucky we didn't just say they were ours." Momentary pause... maybe it was a good thing that I chose a table by the door. One of the guys with the sandwiches said something appropriate and with similar humor and all was okay. Our sandwiches gone and bill settled, we quietly made our way back to the truck and the familiar movie theatres.