Dinner and Street brawls

Posted by: fracas on July 18 @ 11:08 am

We’re sitting on the terrace of Lambermont’s. Or to be precise the restaurant formerly known as Lambermont’s, formerly the location of Luca and Lucas. It’s a complex affair and I shall not delve into it any further. Whatever the name of this restaurant, because I still haven’t figured it out, it’s a situated in a beautiful Art Deco building, somewhere between the Grote Houtstraat and the Spaarne river. It’s our second visit and as the weather is glorious we decide upon a table outside. Opposite the restaurant sits a Rock Cafe frequented by a somewhat dubious clientele. But it makes up for an interesting sight and certainly food for conversation.

The wine is good, and the food is excellent. Somewhere mid-course, the perfumes of freshly rolled joints lingers towards our table. I inhale the scent as I quite like the fragrance. It brings back old memories.

After the second course, I leave the table for a visit to the ladies room. I estimate I’m gone for about 2 minutes. When I come back I find my husband in a heavy dispute with half of the drunken clientele on the other side of the street. They seem to be upset with my husband. I can’t really figure out why although I do my best to decipher their poor Dutch (I believe they are British). A tall tattooed guy, with a misplaced eyeball sees his chance to swing a few punches and enters the brawl. He’s talking threatening to the waiter who is doing his best to hold the situation together. At this point I can only think of Sebastian, who unwittingly is the centre of attention of this street scene. I whisk him away and let my husband finish off the situation at hand, a task I know he’s more than happy to take on. A few minutes later, he’s back. Situation is resolved, although a certain tension is lingering in the air.

“What was it about?” I ask, still perplexed over what I just saw.
“The guy talked about my son”
“Talked about?” I go from perplexed to intrigued and back again.
“Yes, he is obviously drunk. But he had no business making those remarks.”
I leave it at that. There’s nothing more to add. We continue to enjoy our main course, but this intermezzo has left a mark on our evening. Instead of going for desert we leave for home. I’m tired. I try to watch some TV but it only adds to the exhaustion. Half an hour later I’m in bed, with my Marie Claire and Vanity Fair. It doesn’t take long before I’m fast asleep.