Every time I drive up Ouachita Avenue and past what is now Colorado Grill, I smile a little.
Not because I'm thinking about cheese dip, instead I'm thinking about love. My love.
In the early 90's that restaurant was called Acapulco's. My husband, Alex, was a chef there. I was writing a story for The Spring Magazine about the restaurant and had to interview Alex. He was handsome, swarthy and cocky, with long black curly hair and beard and he wore a thick gold chain. (It was the 90's)
During the interview he asked me out several times but I ignored him. I could tell he was a player and I figured he was dating most of the waitresses in town.
A week latter I was on a date with a landscape architect from Duke. He was easily ten or fifteen years old than I. We went to Acapulco's and sat at a table in front, next to the great big window overlooking Ouachita.
When Bob (I just made that name up) went to the bathroom, Alex walked straight to the table and said, "Why are you out with him? I saw you first." He was obviously a little annoyed and childish and charming. I guess he felt like he'd called "dibs".
Bob came back to the table and Alex started chatting him up. Then Bob asked where we should go for an after dinner drink and Alex told him about Edelweiss, the German restaurant in Spencer's Corner. Bob thanked Alex for the tip.
We left Acapulco's thirty minutes latter and headed to Edelweiss. When we walked in I had to smile. there was Alex, sitting at the bar, no longer in his chef whites. Of course Bob insisted we sit with him and buy him a cocktail. Alex had me.
In thirty years that's the only tricky or sneaky thing I've know Alex to do. He's just not that kind of guy. But on that summer night so long ago he had a plan.
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