My husband and I used to have an annual tradition of going to Dave and Buster’s for his birthday. It’s an expensive date between dinner and games, so it’s a once-a-year thing. We weren’t able to do it for the past two years, but this year we were fortunate enough to go. We took our daughter with us so it wasn’t much of a date, but he was so stoked that I didn’t even care.
See, there’s the thing: I hate the place. I call it a yuppie haven. I don’t even like the food. The place is crawling with yuppies after work in their suits, sneering at us in our obviously cheaper clothes, and it’s as loud as Chuck E Cheese—a place I don’t care much for, either. But he loves it, so I’m more than willing to go with him. Usually I have a drink, at least, which I can enjoy—but since I was on kiddo duty while he played games, I didn’t do that, either.
So while I was there, rolling my eyes at all of the “yuppies” and still burning over a jerk who cut me off walking in earlier because he was obviously so much more important than my family and I am, I was pleasantly surprised when a woman—who saw my cute child, obviously—came up to us and offered us the tickets she won. I told her thank you, absolutely stunned at the surprise.
Not fifteen minutes later, a man approached us and gave us four game cards with money still on them to play on! Seriously? There was no way I could maintain my disdain for the place when so many nice people surrounded us.
Most days I do try to remind myself of the goodness of people, and of the world in general. This, however, has been one of those trying years filled with familial turmoil and change, which is uncomfortable, to say the least. It’s not even that I don’t embrace change—typically, I am great at rolling with the punches—but this year provided me with some change that I’m really not used to at all, including some “drama,” which I avoid at all costs, and I’m still carrying the effects of this with me. Our evening at Dave and Busters reminded me that I need to have faith in people and that optimism serves so much well than pessimism. Why bother wallowing when you can hope?
All of that said, if I had to eat at a yuppie place, I would totally choose TGI Friday’s instead. Maybe for our January anniversary date…