We were having lunch on the upper deck of the Bookstore Restaurant in Wellfleet on a fine day in July. At the next table was a family with three young children and two flustered parents, tourists from New York, it sounded like. The server, a friendly Jamaican who had just brought our drinks went for the family’s order.
“You don’t have quesadillas?” the querulous mother cried. “No,” said the server, “we don’t.”
“That’s crazy,” she said. “I’ve never heard of a place like this not having quesadillas.”
“I don’t think we’ve ever had quesadillas,” said the server.
“Well,” said the mother, “you should think about that.”
Raising her eyebrows, the server said, “I will.” She turned around and left the table, presumably to think.
Readers are invited to send their own mini-stories (word limit: 200) about funny, illuminating, only-on-the-Outer-Cape moments to [email protected] for consideration for “Incidentally.” We hope this will become a place for recording memorable snippets overheard at the post office, grocery store, beach, or wherever our stories take place.
