My brother and sis-in-law provide the caravanserai in my life. I hang my hat there when I travel to “the good life” now that my parents are gone. We have our rituals and habits – one of which is having dinner at the local hangout.
Here at home I would like to go to a restaurant/bar where EVERYONE knows me. At my brother’s place the weather was delightful so we hopped the fence across the road and landed at the back door of CK’s, the local watering hole. I know nothing of this place other than that I show up, everyone greets my brother, and we proceed to have a “Duke.” It’s a ritual.
Just thinking about my rituals on the road. What are yours?
Sounds wonderful.
My story isn’t about a restaurant. When I go in my branch of the bank, everyone calls me by my first name. It’s amazing.
I’d like to think I must be a rich customer and that’s why they know my name. Reality though, it’s a small branch and they really value customer service.
They serve coffee so maybe it’s a restaurant story after all?
Same deal, and how cool. Yeah – no one here remembers me by name. And coffee? That is totally a prerequisite for a caravanserai! (Or beer?)