Peace-a-Pizza.

For as long as I can remember, I've had a problem with cacophony. It's only gotten worse as I've gotten older (if you've ever gone out to eat with me in a loud restaurant, you've noticed the earplugs).

Tonight, we landed in a packed restaurant where we immediately knew we needed to escape to the patio to get away from the noise. No dice -- the outside was closed, so we had to plop down in the middle of the place amidst all the clatter.

I was miserable the moment we sat down.

After a few minutes, the owner (who I later learned was simply called Mama) saw the pained look on my face then came over and whispered in my ear that she had something special for me. She took me by the arm, Carl following, and brought us to a side room with no one else there.

Right beside our new table, she opened a glass garage door to a beautiful patio and then she shut a regular door behind her, cutting us off from the main dining room and creating an instant little mini-dining experience all to ourselves.

Ahhh. Peace. Crashing waves. People laughing in the distance on the street and on the beach.

Later, when the waiter knocked on our door to bring us our pizza, I opened it and looked behind him at about a hundred pair of eyes looking back at us from the main dining room. I was like, "Why are they all staring at us?" The waiter was like, "Well, someone asked why you got to go in there all by yourselves with the door closed, and I told them you were suddenly famous because you invented Pokeman Go and needed your privacy. I guess word got around really quick."

He let us leave later through the back door.

I <3 Seattle.