Our merry band of misfits happens to hail from Cape Cod so, not surprisingly, we tend to gravitate to the Cape BBC locations when we’re in the mood for a quick pint. A random afternoon of work-related errands came to a close just as the sun was setting, so we headed to our Sandwich location for an après-work beverage.
It was just before 4:00 as we made our way into the pub. The power plant on the canal was bathed in soft sunlight, giving the usually menacing structure a soft glow that made us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The bar was just starting to get busy and, as we went to grab seats, there was a nearly empty, watered-down Coke sitting on the bar.
Ever concerned about manners, we asked the couple next to the sad soda if the seats were taken.
“Yes,” said the woman. “Or they will be.”
Apparently seat-saving at the Sandwich pub is akin to parking spot-saving after a snowstorm in Southie; he who gets there first can just toss out some random detritus to call the spot. No worries. There were still enough seats for everyone.
The “seat-savers” turned out to be for soon-to-arrive friends of John and JoAnn, regulars at the pub. Ever the gregarious group, we struck up a convo. Turns out JoAnn has known Harry Gnong, one of the BBC’s owners, since before there even was a BBC.
“He’s a classic sit-at-the-bar-tell-a-story-guy,” said JoAnn of Harry. “He gives the bar a true, British pub feel.”
Clearly, the woman knows Harry. He does so love to spin a good yarn.
JoAnn shared a pretty darned good yarn of her own.
She and John, her partner of 11 years and husband of six, met at the pub. How cool is that?!
“I was here with a girlfriend on a Sunday afternoon during a blizzard,” JoAnn said. “We were having a pizza when he came in and sat at the end of the bar, and I was wondering how to strike up a conversation.”
Someone sitting at the bar, an “older man who’s a friend,” as JoAnn described him, suggested she send the handsome stranger a drink.
“I don’t do that!” was JoAnn’s response to his outrageous suggestion.
So that friend took things into his own hands and sent a drink to the gentleman along with JoAnn’s business card. She was mortified and hid behind a newspaper, refusing to meet John’s gaze as he left.
Fear not, for this yarn has a happy ending.
The recipient of that cocktail texted JoAnn when he got home and said, “I’m not sure what to do when a beautiful woman sends me a drink except take her to dinner.”
Apparently dinner at Café Strega in Plymouth was a smashing success. They’ve been together ever since.
Did we mention we were feeling all warm and fuzzy inside?