Lover's Point in Pacific Grove

Our "rock" table picnic spot

Eight years ago, when I first became a single mom, I was in a wine shop and spotted a picnic backpack filled with all the essentials for a romantic picnic for two: plates, silverware, a cheese board, a wine opener (can’t forget that), wine glasses, cloth napkins and a tablecloth. I bought it and dreamed of a day when I would use it on the beach with a romantic partner. We’d ride our bikes along a path by the ocean, stop at a gourmet deli and pick up some local wine and exotic cheeses, find a cozy, sunny spot on the beach and enjoy the fine food and company. So romantic.

I never used that picnic backpack. I put it on a shelf and forgot about it. Until today. I spent most of the morning working on homework and when I was done I announced to Paul that is was time to HAVE SOME FUN!!! It was his idea to go for a bike ride and have a picnic on the beach. “Hey,” he reminded me, “Don’t you have a picnic backpack thing that we’ve never used?” He retrieved it from the laundry room shelf where it had been gathering dust. I cleaned it off and while Paul loaded the bikes into the car, I ran to the store to get some indulgent, decadent noshing foods like Humboldt Fog goat cheese, tapenades, crusty bread, wine and dark chocolate. Yum. We drove down to Pacific Grove to a park called Lover’s Point and rode our bikes to Monterey. The weather was gorgeous. It was so relaxing and romantic. We found the perfect spot, a “rock” table and while I set out the food, I thought about how far I’ve come since I first bought this backpack and how happy I was that I finally got to use it.

Then it  got kind of cold and windy. Paul spilled his wine all over the table and accidentally sat in it. He had this pee like stain on his butt. A homeless person wandered by and I felt kind of guilty that we were indulging and thought about offering her some food. We forgot the bike lock so I worried the bikes would get stolen. And then my lactose intolerance started to kick in. But it was very romantic. I swear. Not exactly as I pictured it, but then nothing ever is.