On Sunday, the Mr. had plans for me. We were going to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants and “The Hot Spot in DC” as noted by Martha Stewart Magazine, Oya Restaurant and Lounge. I absolutely adore that place. Its Victorian inspired decorations sets the perfect ambiance for an intimate date with your man or your closest friends. Needless to say, their Asian fusion dishes are delicious.
I was excited about our date night because it required me to compliment the style of the restaurant—flawless. Therefore, I dug deep into my closet and pulled out a dress I purchased on Black Friday while visiting my brother in Atlanta in 2013.
You know, I actually remember that day so vividly. I tried on the leopard body con dress and matching stilettos. My nieces’ reactions confirmed that it was mine, “I like it, Auntie!” Teenagers’ opinions are always raw and truthful.
So I purchased the dress and the shoes, which I later discovered that my toes would ball up while trying to walk and would eventually have me tip toeing around.
After getting dressed, I thought about something. It was a while since I had put on a dress and it was a beautiful moment. My makeup was nice and my dressed hugged every curve in the perfect place. My spirit was positive and coincidently I became high off being happy. The feeling was unexplainable. I bet it sounds weird and vain but I swear…it felt amazing.
Until we arrived at Oya, and the hostess tried to deny our seating, chile! Talking about we were 20 minutes late. Honey, this head turned to the side, my eyebrows folded tightly, and I gave him that deadly look of, “Bitch! You tried it.” I had to come off my high horse and give attitude.
“Excuse me? We called and shared that we were running late and NOONE shared any information that pertained to denied seating after a specific time.”
“I’m sorry ma’am, but our kitchen closes at 9:00PM.”
“So you mean to tell me, if we arrived at our scheduled time, 8:45, that we would have to RUSH…AND ORDER… OUR FOOD?” I was getting even more pissed now. “I don’t think so. Where’s the manager?” I requested.
It was nothing more I had to say to the hostess. He was bullshitting me. I didn’t know if he thought he was talking to a broke fool or what, but I needed the manager.
Thankfully, the manager whom was styled nicely in a custom fitted suit and doubled diamond-studded earrings in each ear was very accommodating to my concern. He understood my point of view and quickly honored their service for dinner for two.
I immediately transformed back into a pleasant southern bell and simply replied, “Thank you so much, sir,” with a warm charming smile.
The service from that point on was superb. I was in good company with my Mr. that consisted of good conversation over drinks and dinner. It was everything I needed before starting a new workweek.
I couldn’t help but smile—I was just happy.
I am definitely going do to this more often—get dressed pretty and go eat at a fancy restaurant, even if it’s by myself. I deserve it. We all do. Try it. You’ll feel good too.