I received the latest issue of Parents Magazine in the mail this week. In it was a list of web sites offering coupons and discounts on everything from grocery stores to restaurants to baby products. I went to one of the sites and scrolled down a list of restaurants looking for money-saving deals. Chili's... Dunkin' Donuts... Hard Rock Café.
When I was 18 years old, my best friend and I went to Hard Rock Café in downtown
every weekend. I would get a cheeseburger and fries (this was before I completely gave up meat). We would talk over the loud music, laughing and people-watching and enjoying being out. We would make fun of the tourists. We always ordered dessert. Boston
I remember exactly where I’d park my car, and the walk to those golden, guitar-handled doors. We knew the bouncers and would chat before going in. I remember so clearly the décor – the hard wood floors, the guitars, Madonna’s bustier from the “Open Your Heart” video, the Beatles memorabilia – even the stairs that led down to the bathrooms. I remember one of the last times I was there – on a date with a guy named Ariel whom my cousin would tease me about by humming the tune to “The Little Mermaid.”
Time moved forward – graduating college, working, growing up, going to
Armenia, falling in love, getting married, moving to , having babies… Fresno
… and getting Parents Magazine in the mail.
OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.