The Del Mar

When I first moved to Ottawa, I briefly dated a girl called Jill, very briefly. While we were out one evening, we bumped into one of my colleagues at work, Steve. I introduced him to her and we briefly chatted.

We had just come from the Del Mar Restaurant. It no longer exists. A whole block of stores was torn down to make room for the Rideau Centre. I considered it a real find. A Lebanese family owned it, as I recall, and they featured tasty, middle-Eastern food at a very good price. I could tell that Jill was rather impressed, too. During the meal she mentioned that we should call this “our place”. How romantic!

The next day Steve came to my office and said something that showed he was more than a colleague, he was a gentleman, too, and eventually became a friend.

He said, “Jill called me and asked me if I wanted to go out with her. I didn’t know if you two were serious, so I thought I’d check with you first.”

Seeing the writing on the wall, I told Steve that it wasn’t serious. How could it be? Why would she be so bold to call him up if she had strong feelings for me?

A couple of days later, I bumped into Steve. He thanked me for being honest about Jill and I thanked him for being honest. He told me that they had gone on a date and that he really had enjoyed himself. Yes, I said to myself, I could understand that.

He went on to tell me that they went out to eat at a very interesting restaurant and that I should try it sometime – the Del Mar! Well, I had to laugh, again, to myself. She could have been original with Steve, at least. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that what she was giving him was recycled.

A few weeks later, I bumped into Steve again. It seems as if everything between him and Jill was finished. Somehow I wasn’t surprised.

The next week I went to the Del Mar Restaurant. The food was as wonderful as ever, but it wasn’t “our place”, it was “my place”, that is, until the wrecking ball took it down forever a few weeks later. How fitting!