WE'VE GOT RESERVATIONS AT SCHWA

After one and a half months and one missed call, I finally got us reservations at Scwha. It's the dream we've been chasing -- the dream to return for Brian and I, to experience it for his brother Patrick -- with reservation nightmares.

If you don't know Schwa, take some time to get to know the story of wonder, a nervous breakdown, a hiatus and back to wonder.

It used to be that you'd call and have to book out months in advance. And calling to get a hold of someone to take your reservation was nearly impossible, thanks to the fact that five (I think it's five) people run the entire place. That was Brian's experience a year ago. Now, you have to call and either 1) listen to a repeated "Voicemail Box Full" message day after day or 2) Leave your information for a reservation request for the following month and pray you're around to get the call when it does come -- weeks later.

You'll hear stories about how to talk to someone. "Call between 2 and 3 -- that's when Michael Carlson told me he answers the phone." "Call around noon, when they'll likely clear out the voicemail box." "Try showing up in the afternoon."

Nothing worked. But I did get a call.

I missed that call while I was on a business trip. The message I left detailed my name, phone number, the number of people in the party and the date we'd prefer, along w/ the note that we were totally flexible. The message they left weeks later came from what sounded like either a boy who was 12 or a man who was stoned (maybe both?) and it went like this:

"Hi, this is Schwa returning your call. If there's anything we can do for you, please give us a call back."

What the fuck.

It's maddening, of course. I left another message and eventually stopped trying. Then I came down with the flu and pneumonia and forgot about it entirely.

Lo and behold, Michael Carlson himself called today to tell me -- surprise! -- I was on a wait list for tonight (really?) and could come any time I wanted. Tonight. "Oh  my God!" I said. "We'll be in!" Then I remembered our long-standing Frontera reservations, and the fact I'm still not up for alcohol, and that we'd have to check with Patrick. A lot of ifs. But the pressure! He talked at high speed and was very nice, but he wanted a decision, and he wanted one now.

I found out he was currently eating at Frontera as he returned me call. He promised Schwa would be amazing. I told him I already knew that.

Thankfully it hit me to slow the fuck down and ask questions. Turns out there were two weeknight reservations in March and I ended up getting one on St. Patrick's Day.

We hung up. Then I used my inhaler.

This is way too stressful of an experience. Their system is horrible!Yet they know they can do it because they're that good, and people will call, and they will phone-stalk the place. We liken it to the best dining experience. Ever.

Hopefully the stress is till worth it.

***
Yup, we've got reservations at Frontera Grill tonight -- my first time, Brian's second or third -- for our Tuesday Night.

It feels good to be getting back to normal life, even if it is still in slow motion.