My friday night came early..

I sat down at the table my mom had reserved for us, it was a small table meant for the patio, probably wrought-iron and covered by a red paper table cloth,. I let out a sigh of relief as this was my Friday, even though it was only Wednesday night. It was nice not being in a crowded, loud brightly lit situation. The drapes were shut as the sun was setting, and lighting was low provided by a mish-mosh of lamps.

The clanging of glasses and silverware was carefree, and light laughter helped build the ambiance. In the background 50s and 60s music played quietly, and the smell of garlic was enough to tantalize any taste-buds. This is not a place we frequent, and I'm not really sure why. It's hidden in the downtown area of Salem, on the side of a lot occupied by an over-zealous bank. The food is overwhelmingly delicious, slightly over priced, and well worth the wait.

You can hear the light swishing of the dishwasher as it sneaks closer to closing time, and you can tell the waitress cannot wait. After all, the sun was shining, the mood was light and there was still plenty of time left to enjoy this mid-week Friday. I admire the quaint building, because where it lacks in size, it makes up with character. The walls are charmingly decorated in a variety of old photos, and oil paintings by local artists, perhaps even by the employees themselves.

Our time came to a close, as we walked out with the door jingling behind us, I left with a satisfied feeling knowing that my Friday was off to a good start.