Just another day in the boonies of central Louisiana......

It started out so innocently. Four of us, who haven't seen each other in way too long, deciding to meet up and travel to the boonies of central Louisiana and help the one going through a divorce clear out her cabin on the river. She only wanted a couple of paintings and a few dishes, so it wasn't going to be a large undertaking. It was a spur of the moment idea -- literally put together the night before and the day of. The highlight of the short trip was a planned stop for a meal at a wonderful little out-of-the-way restaurant. So, away we went -- blissfully unaware of the surprises that awaited us.

The time and miles flew by with the car full of chatter, laughter, flaky pastries, and good strong, hot coffee. The higher above sea level we climbed, the more likely we were to spot a tree displaying leaves of gold or red. The air that had been a tad crisp earlier that morning started turning to that soft, gentle breeze that -- while still warm -- held the promise of autumn. We arrived at the cabin contented (but with somewhat of a sugar and coffee high).

We had all been to this cabin over the years. One of our favorite things to do was gather up there and -- cook. On those long ago weekends, as the kids did whatever it was they were in to at the time, all us moms and dads would sip wine, hum along (or sing loudly) with the music playing, laugh, smile, stir, taste, add salt -- or pepper, chop onions and peppers....endless mountains of onions and peppes. And then, by late afternoon we were ready to gather at that huge, wobbly table and share the feast we'd spent all day preparing. An after-supper stroll to enjoy the sunset, and back to the big screened in porch to sip coffee or drinks and plan the next day's meal. Good times.

After gathering and packing up all the items on our friend's list, we loaded into the car and headed to the restaurant -- famished. It didn't take long to get there, and we parked the car, got out, and walked in as we debated what we wanted to order. You know how it can be hard to see after walking inside from the bright sunlight sometimes? That's how it was with us that day. That's what we thought was happening as the first person stopped dead in her tracks and, one after one -- like bowling pins -- we each one bumped into the other. We snickered at ourselves, and then -- one by one -- we saw what the problem actually was.

There he was. Sitting not fifteen feet away. Sitting with a woman we didn't recognize. Sitting with this woman in a way that you could tell was not just a business meeting or anything bordering on innocent. My vision blurred, my ears started buzzing -- I actually thought I was going to black out. And, it wasn't even my husband. And, unfortunately, not even the husband of the friend going through the divorce. This one belonged to the one of us who had first walked into the restaurant. She had been the first to see him. And the first to react.

What would you do in a situation like that? If I've ever thought about it, it involved drinks thrown into both their faces, steak knives, and.... What did my friend do, you wonder? Well, let me tell you. It was as if she was following a script she'd studied. She looked at us. Then she walked over to the bastard and the whore her husband's table, and.... She tilted her chin up. She smiled. Said, "Hello, S." Slipped off her wedding ring and dropped it into his drink. She was so freakin' cool it was like watching a movie. Afterwards (some time afterwards), the rest of us regreted not cheering and applauding. We just glared daggers at him.

Then, our hero/friend, walked back to us, and said, "I'm starving, girls. Let's eat." Can you even believe it!? So....we were led to a table, ordered and (after regaining our senses) consumed a fabulous meal. The owner came and sat with us and jokingly said she had a list of men she'd like us to take care of. My friend's meal was "on the house," and if we'd accepted all the free rounds of drinks offered, we'd never had made the drive back to the city.

And what did the offending husband and his 'ho do, you ask? Well....after rescuing the discarded wedding ring from his drink -- which involved (we were told by delighted diners who had been sitting near him) the use of a fork, and then a knife, and then (fork and knife failing) the request for a bowl into which he poured (after slapping back the hand of a helpful/flustered server offering to do the deed for him) hubby (visably flustered by then -- poor bastard) splattered his drink into the bowl, grabbed the nice sized diamond ring, and stomped out of the restaurant.

We saw his exit. He didn't even have the presence of mind (wonder why??) to drag the woman along with him. She followed along hurriedly on her own. I assume he was waiting in the parking lot. How would you like to have been a mosquito in that car on the ride back to the city?

My friend is okay. Still stunned, but okay. Me? I'm still trembly.

On the drive back, we realized this was yet another way this city's changed since the storm. Those little out-of-the-way restaurants you used to could count on for a clandestine rendezvous? Not so much anymore....