In which Ryan has to wear a jacket

For my birthday, Ryan and I went to a fine dining establishment for dinner. We’ve eaten lots of really delicious and sometimes quite fancy food, but this one was the first time that our dining was truly fine dining.

I love pasta.  I love love love pasta.  And for my birthday, I wanted to have some truly perfect pasta.  So, we went to Spiaggia.  The view is perfect (each table has a view of Lake Michigan and the spot where Michigan Ave. meets Lake Shore Drive).  The food is delicious.  Each course was quite lovely.  I left feeling full, fancy and spoiled by my husband for taking me to a place where he had to wear a jacket to dinner.

And then I saw the people coming out of the bathroom and became very confused.  These people had obviously just dined or were still dining at the restaurant.  And yet, they hadn’t seemed to have done any research on where they were dining.  Mini-sweater-dress?  Jeggings?  Really?

So, then I started to imagine all kinds of scenarios that would explain the casual dress.  Last minute dinner plans?  Just happened to be in the area?

We knew that it would be pricey so we planned and saved for this dinner.

Someday, I would like to have so much money that I can simply walk into a jacket-required-for-dinner restaurant on a whim.

I won’t be wearing jeggings, though.


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