Since my husband and I settled in Crestline nine months ago, I’ve enjoyed following your column, which always offers sensible advice with grace. Which is why I now seek your guidance as I find myself in a predicament concerning a newfound friend I’ve made.
Our paths crossed at a summer concert by the lake, where this woman captivated me with her stories. She knew so much about the town’s history and everyone seemed to be her acquaintance. In a kind gesture, she extended an invitation to show me around and, true to her word, she kept her promise. Yet, I now have nagging suspicion that those tales may have some embellishments or, worse yet, be complete lies.
For example, she confidently declared herself a regular at a popular local eatery, saying she was well known to the staff, who would seat us at the most sought-after table. However, when we went for dinner, not a single soul among the staff greeted her by name, and we were seated at a table next to the bustling kitchen, despite there being more desirable options. Naturally, this fell short of the expectations she had set. Nevertheless, she explained the discrepancy was due to her dining there during the day. And there have been other instances such as this, including at her own church!
And so I find myself torn, Sidney. Have I become an unwitting participant in this woman’s fanciful tales? Or should I gracefully overlook this flaw, considering the warmth and hospitality she has shown me?
Needy in Crestline
Dear Needy,
I do wish you had mentioned the name of the restaurant with a sought-after table. Could it be Toni’s across from the lake, I wonder? I do enjoy eating my tacos at a front table on the deck, when it’s warm out and the sun is shining. Or could it have been the last table against the window at Crestline Cafe with a fantastic view of Snyder’s car service and the thrift shop at the Alpine Mall? Wait! No. You spoke of being taken to dinner, not lunch, so Lake Drive would have been dark with all the businesses rolled up and put to sleep.
I’m guessing that your newfound lying friend treated you to dinner at this unknown bistro, where you were forced to sup in close proximity to the clatter of stainless-steel utensils.
Thank you for the compliments regarding my weekly column, but fancy praise will not sway my opinion. In reference to her warmth and hospitality, my advice is that you “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” that you indulge in her harmless fantasies and that you be kind, yet learn to say “No, thank you.” Crestline is a very, very small town. I don’t want you to have to hide out on the patio of the Stockade Bar & Grill in 30-degree weather to avoid the glorified, self-appointed Historian of Crestline.
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