Tell me this hasn’t happened to you: Just as you shut the door to your house or car, you realize you left your keys inside. Now you’re locked out. Oh, shoot!
I had many “Oh, shoot!” moments this week. It started on Tuesday morning when, just as I exited the fitness center, I realized I didn’t have my coded access card in my hand (or pocket, for that matter). It was 6 a.m. and there was no one around to help me get back in to retrieve it.
Well, I figured, I could call the management office after it opened; they would find my card and I could pick it up after work. Unfortunately, they didn’t find the card and no one turned it in that day or any subsequent day this week. A replacement card costs $25.
The same day, I stopped at the grocery store on my way home and realized when I got to my car that I had lost my favorite pair of glasses in the store. Unfortunately, no one turned them in that day or any subsequent day this week. I purchased the glasses some time ago, at which store I do not recall; so I probably won’t be able to find another pair with polka dots on black stems.
Yesterday, I began my day at the dentist. When I was a child, I ate way too many sugary treats without immediately brushing my teeth. So I had old fillings that were breaking down and had to be replaced. I left the dentist with a numb left jaw and a charge card receipt for $169, neither of which had positive effects on my mood.
I was scheduled to meet SDH/GL photographer Martin Mann at The Marine Room in La Jolla for a photo shoot at 4:30 p.m. I had forgotten my GPS, so I printed out directions from Mapquest. Unfortunately, the street where I needed to turn was not marked as indicated in the directions and I ended up “aimlessly” driving around, finally arriving 15 minutes late.
I entered the restaurant frustrated and a bit dispirited. But as soon as I saw the surrounding view from the large glass windows, a Bob Marley feeling — “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, because every little thing gonna be alright” — swept over me. The Marine Room sits right on the water, and I could see people enjoying the surf on kayaks and on the beach. With a corner table providing views of the ocean in two directions, the photo shoot setup looked better than I had envisioned (see photo above).
We were shooting sommelier Lisa Redwine (she chose her profession before marrying someone with an apropos surname) pouring wine for a Cheers article in our September issue. At the conclusion of the shoot, Lisa said they couldn’t serve the opened wine and offered Marty and I each a glass.
I was happy to wait out rush-hour traffic. We took our wine to the bar and ordered appetizers. Mine was a Maine diver scallop and Baja prawn with quinoa, dragon fruit, a lacy brioche slice and an herb-stuffed lychee on absinthe saffron foam. As surprising as this may sound, this was not what I had planned to make at home for dinner (even without absinthe saffron foam).
Feeling better than I had all week, I left The Marine Room and headed home. Unfortunately, I didn’t even have assistance from Mapquest and missed no fewer than three exits — taking me about 10 miles out of my way.
When I finally got in, I called my best friend, who let me rant, sympathized and then with a voice of calm reasoning helped me put things into perspective. Yes, I had a frustrating and dispiriting drive home, but I had just come from a “quintessential” San Diego experience of taking in the best of what’s out there and meeting nice people like Lisa and bartender Everett Popadak.
So, “This is my message to you: … Every little thing gonna be all right.”