Here’s a skill-testing question for you:

Under what circumstances would I write a positive post about a restaurant that I walked into an hour ago and walked out of ten minutes later?

Julie’s House opened at 9:00 am.  People were already flooding in – people with reservations.  Soon Julie’s would be full with folks who had reserved ahead.  Except for a counter … and I didn’t want to sit there.

The cool thing is that two women employees did their darndest to find a solution for me, but full is full.  I smiled at both of them as I went in search of another source of breakfast.

A few days ago, I sat in this lovely spot in Julie’s, sipping my latté and watching Peter cut a cake into slices.  My croissant had just come out of the oven and the raspberry (strawberry?) jam sunk into the hidden places.  An earlier smile.

There is the brick arch, sunlight flooding in, families walking by on the street.  All was well.  And Peter made me feel welcome, as did a female employee whose name I didn’t learn.

I lingered, soaking in the song “Martha” by Tom Waits, feeling the slow … feeling at home.

I looked down at my napkin.  I decided to follow instructions:

The sign on Julie’s window said it all: You are welcome here.  Please join us.

I will … again and again