The other day my wife called me on my way home from work.
"I'm hungry", she said.
After a brief parley, she said she'd ring a local place called Fourth and Sea and order herself some fish and chips if I'd pick it up. Sitting south of the county line in traffic, I said sure, call now and it will be ready by the time I get there. Nothing was said about ordering me anything.
About ten minutes later, having negotiated the traffic and the horrendous gateway to town that is the Boulevard South exit, I pulled into Fourth and Sea. My nose was greeting by the tantalizing aromas before I even made it inside. It used to be a Foster's Freeze, but has been converted into a dandy seafood place with an eclectic menu that seems almost out of place for the location.
After waiting for a family ahead of me to order, I stepped up to the counter to do my business. "Twenty two forty", said the man behind the counter. Knowing I had only a twenty dollar bill in my pocket and that they don't take plastic there, all I could say was "what the heck did she order"?
Two three piece dinners, came the reply. Swell, I thought. I hadn't really wanted fish and chips but she had ordered for me anyway. I mulled this latest lesson in marital communication as I tried to figure out what my next move was.
"I've only got a twenty on me," I said. "I'll walk across the street to Bank of the West and hit the ATM, so keep it warm for me".
"No," said the fellow behind the counter. "Enjoy your food while its hot and pay me the two bucks the next time you're in."
This was certainly an interesting turn of events. Certainly not something I'm used to as a lifelong Bay Area resident. I had expected to have to come up with the additional cash before I'd walk out with the grub. The next turn in this little melodrama was even more surprising....
"I got the two bucks," said the lady in line behind me. She plopped two singles on the counter and said, "Now you go do something nice for someone." I said my thanks to both the counter man and the lady in line, and left the place pinching myself to make sure that I was in Petaluma in 2003 and not in 1953 Pleasantville.
A good deed was done me, by two complete strangers, for no particular reason other than they could. Pretty unusual in this day and age, but then again, this is Petaluma and we still pride ourselves on being a little old fashioned.
Of course, I now keep an extra two bucks in my pocket, just in case the person in line ahead of me is stuck.
The fish and chips, by the way, was delicious. If you happen through Petaluma anytime soon... by all means, check it out.
