One of the peculiarities of this past summer's trip to Portugal is the number of folks who thought we were a charming old married couple who had somehow kept the fires burning even after all these decades. I guess "all these decades" part of the equation makes sense. Maybe it would have made more sense if they knew that we'd only been married a year (and, in fact, celebrated our first anniversary on the trip). Yesterday we had dinner at Sarducci's and the waitress asked if we were on a date. I told her it was even worse: we're married.
This came, unbidden, but much appreciated, from a waitress we loved at the Brasileira Cafe in Lisbon.
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