Into each life some rain must fall, and it was already pouring when I walked into Le P'tit Laurent to find a little more gloom. On the other side of the velvet curtain, hung to prevent any chill breeze from the street gaining entry, I learned that my presence that night was also unwelcome. The maitre d' insisted, despite my obvious incredulity, that he had no record of the reservation we'd made a week before. I repeated the name and number of our party in disbelief, and he relented somewhat: "We had you in the book for last night at that time. But when you didn't show up, we... More >>>