Lost: one old guy in flannel

My father had a stroke several years ago. He’s doing pretty well, but he’s a very different man than I grew up with. One thing that’s still the same is that he’s funny – whether he intends to be or not.

This weekend was My Honey’s birthday and on Saturday night we all met my father and mother for dinner at The Cheesecake Factory.

After a short wait, we were seated in the bar area, which was very loud. To be fair, though, that restaurant is really loud everywhere. Just awful acoustics. The service was slow. The food was good. All things were normal.

And then Pop said he was going to the bathroom, that his stomach was upset. No big deal, right? Especially since we were seated not twenty feet away from the bathroom. He says, and it’s true, that he could get lost in a phone booth. Still, he’d be fine.

He was in the bathroom for a long, long, long time.

We sent in The Bandit.

He returned and stated that Pop was fine and he’d be out soon.

Then nothing for a long, long time.

We were waiting for the check and the return of Pop so Sassy and I, and My Honey and The Bandit went to the bathroom as well. Mom waited at the table for everyone’s return. Sassy and I got back, but still no Pop.

So Mom and Sassy and I waited and waited and waited, and no men returned from the bathroom.

Finally, after what seemed FOREVER, Honey and The Bandit came back. Without Pop.

“He’s not in there,” My Honey said. “We waited forever. Every guy came in and asked if we were in line and we said, ‘Nope, we’re waiting for Pop.’ We assumed he was in the big stall.”

He said they hollered over the door. Pop didn’t answer, but that’s not unusual. Pop never hears anything. Whoever was in there kept dropping stuff in a very Pop like manner so they just assumed and waited and waited and waited.

So how surprised were they when a young man came out.

The Bandit said, “Hey, you’re not Pop.”

So now we’ve been waiting for maybe 20 minutes for Pop to come out of a bathroom he apparently hasn’t been in for God knows how long. We had no idea how he could get past us since we WERE SITTING RIGHT THERE.

“What do you mean he’s not in there?” I asked.

“He’s not,” My Honey repeated. “I was going to peek over the wall, but it was a damn good thing I didn’t. I can just see the police charging me with some sort of pervert offense.”

Turns out when Pop left the bathroom, he made a hard left instead of going straight, and went down a different aisle. When he couldn’t find us he wandered out to the parking lot to see if we were out there. Everyone was reunited, no big deal.

Of course my suggestion could be considered less than helpful.

“Well, while the police were here arresting you, they could have helped us find Pop.”