Not What I Wanted to Hear From Paula Deen*

Last week, the SO and I had to make an impromptu visit to Savannah, Georgia for some family matters. Between both of our work schedules, we also knew that we'd probably get to spend less than 24 hours in town.

After the SO price-lined our hotel (one of his favorite activities), I jumped on the web link he sent me to check out the amenities we would be enjoying in the 14 hours between check-in and check-out. Of course, there was your standard pool, restaurants and fitness center, but what immediately caught my eye was the advertised proximity of Paula Deen's The Lady and Sons Restaurant.

I like to think that Paula and I have a lot in common, and the short list includes a love of butter, cheese, cheese grits and deep frying.

Knowing that we were going to be cutting it close by rolling into Savannah just around 9:00 p.m., I asked the SO to call and see if we might make a reservation for the last seating. I also figured that even if they were booked, there would hopefully be a bar where we might be able to find open seats and order dinner.

The he broke the news to me: "They only take reservations for parties of 10 or me. I'm sorry."

I was disappointed, but figured it was still worth a walk down to the restaurant when we arrived. It was only 9:20 at the time, and plenty of people were still milling about the streets and dining in the open windows of restaurants. Also, sometimes, when I look sad or wear low-cut shirts, people give me things -- tables, free movie tickets, the fresher peaches from the back of the store. I was going to ask, and I was even willing to pull out all of the stops.

As we approached the restaurant, I could see at least five tables still full of diners, and when we walked through the door, I spotted the buffet. (A buffet? I mean, come on. That's a server's dream -- the completely low-maintenance dining experience. Plus, presented with a challenge and given the chance, the SO and I could have more than done our damage at the buffet and been out of the restaurant before closing time.)

"Are you still seating?" I asked the host when he approached.

"No," he said. "I'm sorry. We stopped seating 20 minutes ago."

Please keep in mind that I am within 30 feet of hot fried chicken at this moment.

"But, if you want," he went on, "you're welcome to come back at 8:30 in the morning and line up for tomorrow night's reservations."

Now, while I knew that this was the parties-of-less-than-10-reservation policy at The Ladys And Sons Restaurant before this moment thanks to the SO's iPhone research, I hardly expected to be confronted with it as a viable alternative to my present hunger and proximity to fried deliciousness.

"Yeah, sorry lady, you can't eat right now, but you're more than welcome to come back ELEVEN HOURS LATER at 8:30 in THE A.M. so you can LINE UP for a CHANCE at reservations"?!?!

This is your counter-offer? Really? How is this supposed to motivate me? Let alone how is this any kind of incentive to come back to your restaurant? Lines? Mornings? I think not.

We walked away, and my guess is that we will never go back. I can be stubborn, and more truthfully, the odds of me waking up in time to make it anywhere by 8:30 when I've lost an hour between the Central and Eastern time zones is slim to none.

So, when it comes to fried chicken, I guess it's just me and Zaxby's for now. With their chicken nibblers at my side, I think I'll find a way to persevere.

* Clearly Paula Deen herself did not turn me down (and I still refuse to believe that she would), but you have to admit that using her name makes for a far better headline than "Not What I Wanted to Hear From the Random Savannah Host."