A picky eater with lots of allergies and her foodie husband visit Bob’s Clam Hut

Browsing Breaks Bad

March started out miserable. Lots of stress, shock, and sadness. I needed a break and my husband had an idea. We were scheduled to visit my best friend and attend her daughter’s high school play, so Dan opened Google maps, pointed a finger, and asked me what I saw. Much to my broken heart’s surprise, I was looking at a smattering of outlet outposts running up U.S. Route 1 in Kittery, Maine. My jaw dropped. Surely a little retail therapy would help heal my heart and Dan definitely prefers my happy mood.

Let’s Bounce!

Since Dan works from home on Fridays, he told me to pack a bag and be ready by two. He was planning to leave work early so we could avoid the rush hour traffic. That was the plan anyway.  Two o’clock came and went and Dan was still attached to his computer. At three o’clock he scribbled a note letting me know that he was just called into a meeting asking him to present to potential intern transfers. So I started pacing, wringing my hands, and wondering how we were going to make it to the play on time. We had a two and a half hour ride and Boston was part of the route.

At three forty-five, we were on our way. Surprisingly, the traffic gods provided us with open roads as we cruised through Boston on a Friday during rush hour, arriving about twenty minutes before show time. 

Barely Comfortable

As I got settled into my seat, I suddenly understood why Dan is always uncomfortable at the theater. Dan is six foot one and prefers to sit in the aisle seat so he can spread his legs – one into the aisle, one into me. I am five foot nothing and have never had this problem. Until now. My kneecaps touched the seat in front of me and I somehow managed to stuff my feet under my seat. Unfortunately, my best friend’s six foot two husband snagged the aisle seat, so Dan practically had to perform a straddle the entire first act. He couldn’t wait to dismount. 

A Star Is Born

Now, this is a high school play, so my expectations were extremely low. I was there to support my friend and her daughter and get my theater fix. Beth’s daughter is a freshman, but she was given the rather important role of Mrs. Potts in Beauty and the Beast. Beth was a tangle of nerves and doubt about Grace’s upcoming performance – a typical teenager she had refused to allow her parents to listen to her practice any lines or songs and Beth enjoys imagining the worst. We both waited with bated breath for Grace’s big number and then it happened. That girl belted out the musical’s signature song effortlessly and beautifully. Not a single missed note. By the end, Beth was in tears, I was screaming, and I am now Grace’s personal fan girl.

Bag Obsession

The next morning we headed out early towards Kittery, Maine. A little too early. We arrived at the outlets an hour before they opened, but this allowed us to develop our plan of attack. We drove through each parking lot noting which shops were where and developed the ultimate shopping strategy. Lucky for me, it started at Kate Spade. Now, you should know that I am not a fancy person. I prefer jeans and sweats. My hair is always a mess and I never wear make-up. The purse I use is likely something my mother found for me at TJMaxx for twenty bucks. However, last summer, my bestie, Beth, and I went on a girls weekend to an amazing outlet center in northern New Hampshire and she introduced me, nee seduced me, with the fabulousness that is Kate Spade.  My frugal side took one look at the price tag and said no, absolutely not. Then Beth grabbed my arm and took me to the back corner. It is in this back corner where the deals have deals. I must have swooned because by the time we returned to our hotel, I was the proud owner of a Kate Spade, a Coach, a Vera Bradley, and a suede skirt from The Loft. And that’s when the obsession started. I justify it by reminding everyone that I was always home for the kids, but also held down a job which paid for the endless string of afterschool activities. Now that the kids are out of the house, it’s my turn. I mean, don’t I deserve something nice? Dan thinks so, and he also thinks for every nice thing I buy myself means he gets an expensive tool for his workshop. Seems fair to me. 

Shopping and Seafood

So, two Kate Spades and several pairs of jeans later, we walked over to Bob’s Clam Hut. I had eaten some Special K I had snagged from the hotel breakfast nook so I wasn’t especially hungry, but Dan was. During our journey, I offered him some of my cereal, but when he tried it he said it was disgusting, had no taste, and had the consistency of horse feed. I disagree. To me, the cereal was perfect. Dan opened the door to the blue shingled shack-like restaurant and I wrinkled my nose declaring it smelled fishy. Dan reminded me that it’s a seafood place and propelled me further inside. A huge menu hung on the wall announcing baskets and boxes and specials. I quickly found my hamburger smack dab in the middle of the board under Burgers & Dogs. We walked up the counter window and ordered. When I asked for my burger without any toppings, the server graciously rang up a kids meal. Once again, I’m a cheap date. 

While Dan waited for the food, I ventured into the dining area and chose a table in the corner. The walls were painted blue and white and the ceiling was covered with fish netting and buoys.   I sat on the wooden bench where I could see the outdoor seating consisting of picnic tables under a blue canopy. Dan would have loved to eat outside, but it was a little too cool and much too sunny (add sunshine to my neverending list of allergies).

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