Life & Style
Game of Scones: Part II
In my previous column I wrote about attempting to crash a reality TV show. The show is about a restaurant renovation and the weekend plays out like a medieval fantasy quest tale, complete with fire-breathing dragon of a show host. Here’s what happened on Day 2.
Squire is unable to continue on the journey, but The Duchess and I travel back. We approach the castle/restaurant in hopes of getting in and are once again confronted by a guard armed with clipboard and earpiece.
“We’ve traveled so long and come so far,” we tell the guard when he denies us access. But then he asks if we had a reservation, confirms the phone number, and leans in as he tells us, “At 4:00, wait at the boathouse by the moat. You will be guided from there.”
Okay, he doesn’t actually say moat. It’s a river, but I’m keeping with the medieval theme here.
At the boathouse, a guy is coordinating transport. I’ll call him a knight. So we get there and wait. And wait.
After three hours the knight says, “I’m so sorry. There’s no more room. There’s a long line of people out in the cold and they won’t be let in, either.”
Defeated again, The Duchess and I get in her steed of a Jeep and take one more pass by.
There’s no one waiting outside.
In any hero’s journey tale, there’s the hero and there’s the sidekick. The sidekick’s job is to provide the assist that enables the hero to complete the quest. In this story, The Duchess is the hero. I’m the sidekick, much like Samwise in Lord of the Rings. Or maybe I’m more like Donkey in Shrek.
“This is 10 pounds of b.s.,” I say. “Let’s just walk in like we own the place. If they ask us to leave, we’ll leave.”
We park and swiftly make our way through the courtyard. The Duchess’s hand is on the door.
Then, a voice behind us. “Waaaaaaait a minute.”
It’s the knight.
“I know who you are and what you’re doing.”
Busted. Medieval style.
We ask why there are no people waiting outside. He explains that due to the cold they’re inside, but just for drinks, no dinner.
“Can we go in for a drink?” I ask.
And so, The Duchess and I retreat. I’m walking back to her steed when I realize she’s no longer walking with me. She’s returned to the knight.
I hear her saying that we won’t disturb the dragon or anyone else. We just want a drink.
“Sorry, but no.”
The knight is tough, but kind. He’s just doing his job.
“Can we just peek in the windows then?” The Duchess asks.
“I can’t let you do that, either.”
The Duchess looks up at him with big eyes. “Please?”
The knight sighs. “Go in. But don’t approach the dragon, don’t say anything to him, don’t even look at him!”
“Thank you! Thank you!” we’re crying when the knight says, “Go! Before I change my mind!”
So as not to disturb the dragon, I quickly scoot into the castle. . . and nearly run smack into him.
“Oops,” I say, skirting around him and into the bar area. He’s a taller dragon than I thought he’d be.
The Duchess follows quickly behind and we miraculously end up with two seats at the bar. More mead, please!
A castle princess spies us, gives a flash of shock and recognition, then says, “Are you the table of two that we’ve been waiting for?”
The Duchess and I answer in unison, “Yes!”
We’re the very last to be served.
The dragon has breathed his fire and what a wonderful job he and his crew have done! The food is excellent and the new décor absolutely beautiful.
So, we did it. We accomplished our mission of seeing a reality show fire-breathing dragon. We even got on TV. At the very end of the episode, there we are, dining and chatting. Full and happy on a meal fit for a king.
It just goes to show that with some politeness and perseverance, once can complete one’s quest. And when all else fails, beg.
Juliana Gribbins is a writer who believes that absurdity is the spice of life. Her book Date Expectations is winner of the 2017 Independent Press Awards, Humor Category and winner of the 2016 IPPY silver medal for humor. Write to her at firstname.lastname@example.org. Read more of her columns at www.zip06.com/shorelineliving.
Juliana Gribbins is the Columnist for Zip06. Email Juliana at .