Dee and I were driving around, running a few errands, when she turned to me and asked, “Where were we coming back from Monday night when they had Johnson Ferry Road blocked off?”
My Ivy League-educated brain shifted immediately into overdrive. I knew this. I had this.
We had been out to dinner with friends at a popular Italian place... one with which we had been very familiar when we lived in Sweat City. It had gotten its start there, beginning with a single restaurant downtown and later adding a second location outside the I-610 loop on the west side. And then came the deluge: a deal with Outback that resulted in massive expansion across the country.
Now, what the fuck was the name?
Me: “Carraboogio’s?” (Ohhh, so close!)
We looked at each other. Of course, it was Carrabba’s.