Mr. and Mrs.

J and I pulled out of the driveway about 9:30. We were going to get some pictures from a friend later, so she'd pulled her hair into a cute arrangement and was wearing a brand new top and jeans. I was dressed up too, and most importantly, there was no car seat or child in the back of the Yaris. James was with Grandma and we had the entire morning to ourselves.

Even if you've lived with her for seven years it's a little startling to be alone with a pretty girl when nearly all the time you spend with her is in the constant (perhaps, incessant?) company of a two year old boy. We held hands as we drove into Hanover, and talked about the most romantic of topics: mortgages. Actually we talked about down payments and closing costs and reasonable emergency funds, and I tried to do lots of math in my head.

We were at Kohl's first, spending some "free money" that turned into a track jacket and athletic pants for me so that I can keep up my running routine in the fall. We slowly started laughing together more and suppressed the instinct to give a panicked check around for where James might have wandered off.

I started to show off as we drove into Gettysburg. I teased her a bit, and tried to find ways to make her call me "professor," and when an email came into my phone from the auditions coordinator of the New York Phil I talked confidently about winning the job and whisking us off to the big city. We picked up coffee, drove through the main circle, parked, scrounged around the car for quarters, and walked about Gettysburg.

Gettysburg isn't exactly our sort of place. Neither of us are particularly into the Civil War or military history. We walked by lots of shops full of antiques and reenactment equipment, but mostly we just talked to each other. We walked by the courthouse where we filled out our marriage license, and browsed in the public library. We went into a Christian bookstore that was playing the 1812 Overture, and we sang the inner voices as we thumbed through the shelves.

After we'd been all through the square we hiked about a quarter mile west to the restaurant where we'd eaten our first meal on our honeymoon. We stayed just outside of Gettysburg the first night and didn't go out again until the following evening. After poking around the battlefields for a half an hour or so we stumbled onto this restaurant, and we both had fond memories of it. The service was bustling, and the room was filled with the sounds of clinking glasses. One of us had ordered crab imperial and the other filet mignon. It was the perfect romantic evening.

"I think it's up there!"
"Yes, that's definitely the place. It's coming back now."
"I remember it looked long. Let's go in."
"Okay, but let's not tell them we ate here on our honeymoon and this is our first time back."

Would we like a table or a booth? A booth would be fine. Although, to be perfectly honest, the booth looked a little dingy. I looked over to the other side of the dining room and saw the table area where we ate seven years ago. Yes, it was certainly there.

There was no sound of clinking glass or the bustle of a dinner rush. The blinds were pulled shut, and everything looked drab. A few old men in the corner were talking about the movies and some car repairs.

J ordered crab imperial, and I ordered crab legs. We are out of crab legs, sir. The scallops? Sure, and your sides? How are the mashed potatoes? They're real, they're good. I'll have a salad and the mashed potatoes.

J and I looked at each other.

"I'm sure this is the same place, but this isn't how I remembered it."
"Well, it was the dinner rush then."

The salads came, two plates of wilting white iceberg lettuce. J picked at hers slowly while I munched on the crutons.

"You know, we hadn't eaten anything since our reception the night before. Maybe we thought it was so good because we were really, really hungry."
"No, I'm sure it was good. I remember that steak. And I remember that crab imperial. It was good."

The main dishes came out, perhaps a little too quickly. J took a nervous bite of the mashed potatoes. I took a bite of my mashed potatoes. They were absolutely from a box. She took a bite of her crab imperial.

"It's cold. It's barely warm. I think they must have just reheated it from last night or something."

I looked down at my scallops. They were little balls of fried dough. I took a bite and found something white and fish-like inside. It kind of tasted like a fish-stick.

"Should...should we say something?"
"I don't think so...I think that maybe this place isn't as good as we remembered."
"These potatoes taste like plastic. I'm not sure I'm going to finish this."

The waitress came over.
"Is everything okay?"
J and I make hesitating eye contact. It isn't her fault.
"Yes, it's fine, thanks."

As she walks away I start to giggle, and she plays with her food a bit. The old men are still talking about movies in thick southern accents, and I giggle harder. I try to eat some more of my fish sticks.

We got the check, had a good laugh on the way back, and found a pub. J wanted cheesecake, and I wanted a beer. We ordered some crab dip and promptly felt real full, and halfway through the meal the waitress came over and told J she was all out of every single dessert.

I'm not sure that the pretty girl on my arm had a good meal on our date, but we did have a good time.

We also did have a lovely photo shoot with her brother's friend, and she promised to do a guest blog about it. She's pregnant, though, and she fell asleep tonight before she got around to it. So you'll just have to ask her in person why she had tape on her boobs all evening.