I Dreamed of Malibu

A always comes in with her stories of restaurants she's enjoyed.
"The best macaroni and cheese, EVER!"
"The best hummus, EVER!"
"Great French fries, amazing seafood!"
It goes on and on.
I've never been one to eat out much. In fact, right now, I'm eating cottage cheese for dinner. I think it stems from my childhood. My parents didn't take us out to dinner much, but when they did it was a BIG deal. It didn't matter if the restaurant was McDonald's or the local Air Force base's Officer's Club, it was a time for excitement. On birthdays, me and my brothers and sisters were allowed to choose the restaurant we wanted to go to. My older sister would always pick Red Lobster and I never failed to be shocked when I saw the prices, wondering how anyone could afford to eat there.
Anyway, it's a habit that's stayed 'til this day. My recent time with B has made me go out to eat a lot more than normal, but I'm still hesitant about new places. I guess it's weird because I love food and I love eating. But it's still rare when I want to just go somewhere. And even when I do, it's not like I need to do it at right that moment. (It took months for me to finally fill my craving for Polish food by going to Polka in Glendale.)
For some reason, today I was dreaming of The Reel Inn in Malibu, which A had told me about weeks ago, raving about the fun atmosphere and good food. I wanted to go. I wanted to go immediately. A and I started plotting. We debated the 405 versus the 101, we wondered how much time we needed. We estimated the amount of traffic on the highways at different times. All that plotting... for nothing. The plans fell through due to work complications and A went on break by herself while I just went to the gym.
So, I'm left dreaming of Malibu.
I'm left dreaming of The Reel Inn.