The Revolving Restaurant

My daughter and I went to our favorite place for lunch.
She had a day off from school and we planned a lovely morning together.
The restaurant was crowded and there were no tables to be had.

I saw a couple with a toddler waiting to sit down.
They had their eye on a particular table for four.
As soon as the people got up from the table, two women with many packages sat down.

I could see the frustration in the father’s eyes as he tried to hold his little son.
Another table became available.
From across the restaurant, I motioned with my eyes and hands for him to grab it.

Are you sure? he mouthed.
A resounding “yes” and a head nod in his direction gave him the answer he needed.
Soon after, a table for two opened up and we sat down.

Since the restaurant was so crowded, I put my purse down on the floor next to the window.
I usually hang it on the back of my chair, but decided against it.
I looked down and laughed.

My daughter, quite used to me by now, wanted to know what was making me laugh.
I told her the story.

When her dad and I were in college, he invited me to go to a formal.
I bought my plane ticket and flew to Atlanta.
I had bought a pretty dress for the occasion.

He picked me up at the airport and red roses were waiting for me on the front seat.
I couldn’t wait to see friends that I had grown very fond of since he had been at school.
I couldn’t wait to get dressed up for the evening.

The formal was in a lovely hotel in downtown Atlanta.
It had 73 floors and had a glass elevator that you could ride to the top.
I was so anxious to see the city as I climbed higher and higher in the sky.

We were to wait in the restaurant area before going into the ballroom.
We grabbed a table.
The entire restaurant revolved 360 degrees, seventy-three stories above the street.

The restaurant had glass walls that gave you a spectacular panoramic view of the city.
It was so nice to sit and talk together before we went into the ballroom.
I put my little black clutch on the floor next to my chair.

I have no idea how long we sat there, sometimes talking; sometimes taking in the view.
Finally, a friend came over and told us it was time to go into the ballroom for dinner.
I reached down to get my clutch but it was gone!

All my essentials (mainly lipstick) were in that clutch and now it was not there.
I was trying to look for my clutch as calmly and nonchalant as I could.
I can’t find it!

Can’t find what? as if I thought he should be able to read my mind.
My clutch. It’s gone!
I think the word “clutch” confused him, since the only clutch he knew was in his Saab.

My purse. I put it down right here next to my chair and now it’s gone.
Now a waiter was in on the action.
Is there a problem?

I spoke up right away.
Yes, there is! My clutch…I mean, my purse is gone.
I changed the word in case “clutch” meant a car part to him as well.

Where did you put it?
Right there, I said as I pointed to the ledge next to my chair.
You put it there?

I felt as if I needed signs with pictures to explain my dilemma.
Yes, right there! I said a bit more emphatic than I realized.
On the ledge?

I could feel myself getting red.
I had to remind myself that I was dressed formally.
This is a revolving restaurant, he said in a matter of fact tone.

Suddenly, it all made sense.
My clutch was on the stationary ledge next to the window.
The floor that our table rested on revolved slowly as we sat there and talked.

Now, all we had to do was find my clutch.
If you could have seen us, dressed in our formal clothes, trying to be calm.
We went from table to table and tried to look for my clutch.

We attempted to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Not easy for two tall people dressed in formal wear.
Not easy for two tall people who tried to look under tables at people’s feet.

Finally, all decorum was lost.
I found it, I exclaimed excitedly!
I excused myself as I pointed to the person who happened to be next to my clutch.

I’m sorry, my clutch is down there.
It was a man who needed that word translated as well.
My purse, I said with a frustrated tone.

He reached down and grabbed my little black clutch.
Every man in that restaurant learned a new word that evening.
Clutch…a small bag, pouch, or case used for carrying money (or lipstick).

You learn something new everyday.
A new word.
Revolving restaurants have stationary ledges.
Mishaps happen seventy-three stories above the street.

Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Does she not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search for it until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.” In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:8-10)