The word restaurant comes from the Latin root, "to restore," which is why when you feel in a slump, you may decide to eat out, reviving your corporal self as well as your soul.
Even though the economy is slumped, this doesn't mean you have to feel the slouch. Dining out is a stress reliever. You don’t have to spend big bucks even in your favorite big bucks place. A lesser bottle of wine, a shared chocolate--though for some sharing chocolate may be too hard to take--so if you have to, do whatever it doesn’t take.
This is a quasi poem entitled Restorers, and it is a musing about us at Hemingway's circa 1988:
There are tens that book, and tens that cancel.
We get ready, get set, get un-ready.
We're a constant flux of energy, sighing,
laping little waves.
It’s our little life. Here. There.
Providing sustenance in grand style,
and grand parties for grand occasions.
We endure, for fake flair is best left
to those who need to flare,
mere flashes in pans.
They soon extinguish,
their own juices gone dry.
Our nights continue, one after another,
just nearly nights in a bloodshot sky.
Stars spell out the marquis for real people of the night.
Our nights are sanctified, covered with roses in repose.
For some, a fortieth anniversary is more sacred than a second,
as if the enduring merits a medal,
and not the substance of the bond.
There’s sustenance in any relationship,
feeding when hungry, spoon-feeding if needed.
So eat and delete.
There’s no need to forgive chocolate lovers.
They can’t help themselves.
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