Dining In The Dark

"I'm dancing," Danya announces.

"I'm flicking you off," I respond.

We are sitting in O.NOIR, an upscale restaurant where patrons dine in complete darkness. Our waiter, Gavin, comes over and asks if we need anything. All the waiters and waitresses are blind. There's one in our area and we can only guess how many people he is serving by the voices in the room.

"There are some women from Boston in the corner, I'll tell them to give you a shout out," Gavin informs me. He's excited I'm from the U.S.

"Ha. Some Bostonians, huh? Wicked accents," I reply but I'm not sure if he's still standing at our table or not.

We fumble around with the first course of our meal.

"I think this is a mushroom."

"I dropped my asparagus somewhere."

It's tasty. Danya and I alternate between eavesdropping and talking about our respective days.

By the time we get our entrees, I've adjusted to pitch black dining; stabbing my plate, chewing with my mouth open and occasionally cheating by using my hands to feel for some shrimp.

We finish and feel satiated despite opting out of dessert.

Gavin escorts us out but not before I lick my plate clean.