Early on in my relationship with Ginny when we made trips to south Mississippi to visit family there nearly always a trek to New Orleans involved. Sunday brunch at Commanders Palace was a favorite destination.
Our waiter was in his mid-twenties, college kid. Tony his name tag said. Accents being a hobby of mine, I asked from where he hailed. He had a pretty good non-native New Orleans voice, but not the real thing.
“Oh? Who?” he asked. “I might know him.”
“He’s my grandfather!” Tony said.
Now, service is always a cut above at Commander’s Palace; especially Sunday Brunch service. Tony went the extra mile ( and beyond ! ) We got generous servings. We were offered, and we accepted, samples of every dessert on the menu! We left happy, having basked in the glow of family and southern hospitality.
A couple of days later, back home in Magnolia, I began telling my mom the story.
She off-handedly said, “Oh, that’s just my cousin Harry’s youngest boy. He goes to Tulane.”