Ghosted in Ipswich

Dinner Date CJ Fitzwater

I find the word “jaded” too elegant sounding for the harsh meaning it carries – tired, bored or lacking enthusiasm. Is there a word that could sound less beautiful than jaded to describe something as unattractive as that definition?

At some point in our careers, hobbies or marriages, apathy takes hold and we lean on the comfort of routine. It becomes a crutch. We do just enough to get by in whatever area we’ve become jaded, neglecting the very things that once made us love our job, our passions or our partner.

Then, one day, we’re fired, our golf game falls apart, or our spouse finally decides they want a divorce. We recognize the problem, but we keep ignoring the warning signs. When does it become too late to turn things around?

I’ve had a few “dinner date” offers over the past week, but it’s been tough to pin someone down. I recently won an outdoor pizza oven in a raffle, and with the help of my neighbor Don Brown, we’ve been experimenting to create the perfect pizza.

I tend to use too much dough and haven’t quite mastered the timing yet, as I’ve burnt every pie so far. So, when an old fishing buddy invited me to a dinner date at a legendary pizza spot, I was more than thrilled to have some real pizza.

In the Depot Square neighborhood of Ipswich, near the renovated mill buildings along the Ipswich River, you’ll find EBSCO, a multimedia company supporting library information systems and one of the area’s major employers.

Marking the border between EBSCO and a densely packed neighborhood is Riverview Pizza. The pizzeria is housed in a tenement-style building with apartments above.

As you walk from the rear parking lot and around the building, you’re greeted by the wonderful aroma of pizza cooking inside. Everything, from the front door to the tables, is custom-made.

The walls are tongue and groove, giving the interior the feel of a lakeside cabin or an old New England seafood restaurant. The ceilings are low, and the lighting is dim, with the Red Sox game always playing on TV during the season. Ms. Pac-Man sits on the converted rear porch, now an extra dining room, capturing the attention – and quarters – of both youngsters and vintage arcade enthusiasts.

My wife, Nina, and I planned to meet an old fishing buddy for dinner but he ghosted us. Seeing we were both hungry and after a week of pizza frustration, we were craving the famous bar pie, so we decided to go on our own.

Our neighbors Don and Erin Brown had recommended the place earlier in the year when we were in town for the funeral of a friend’s son who had tragically lost his battle with the demons that had plagued him for much of his adult life.

Over 2,100 people died in Massachusetts from opioid- related overdoses last year, and the quaint New England village of Ipswich was not spared. It’s always heartbreaking to attend the funeral of someone so young, knowing they didn’t get to live a full life, and it serves as a sobering reminder of your own blessings.

Their routine cycles around their desperate pursuit of that “dragon” that consumes so many, the chase is their constant companion.

It’s easy to blame the addict, but the truth is the addict is mostly helpless in their struggle to feel whole again, and to shake this partner that clings to their back. Though many find their way through, our friend’s son did not.

At Riverview, you can get anything you want as long as it’s pizza, so we ordered from the pizza-only menu. Nina and I both went with “The Combination,” featuring roasted red peppers, green peppers, mushrooms and a choice of pepperoni, salami or kielbasa. I opted for pepperoni, while she picked salami.

We met Jean Flaherty, who has been waitressing and bartending here since 1978. We ordered it the old way where the cheese is layered on the dough before the sauce – an insider’s trick for those who know the secret to a better pizza.

The small, 10-seat bar with its diner-style stationary stools serves as a watering hole, waiting area and entertainment hub, with everyone’s attention on the 32-inch TV showing the Sox game. Patrons swap jokes, sip beers, laugh and play the name game,” asking, “Do you know Joe so-and-so?” which sparks conversations about just how connected we all are.

Riverview Pizza has a spirit of conversation. Everyone in the busy dive bar and restaurant was engaged in lively dialogue. The secret to Nina’s heart is through her stomach, and everyone knows that my ability to keep a woman far out of my league interested – despite all the challenges, including my health issues she has nursed me through, volunteering her for too many things, my short temper, and sometimes embarrassing behavior – is because I always provide her with a great meal.

If you know me, you know two things upset me deeply. The first is being ignored; I constantly crave an audience, and I’m aware that can be annoying. The second is feeling that my time has been wasted.

Facing my own mortality taught me that time is our most valuable asset.

Although our “dinner date” canceled on us, my wife and I had the chance to sit down, enjoy some great pizza and reconnect.

We need to resist apathy to improve at our hobbies, find new ways to stay engaged and excel in our careers, and, perhaps most importantly, fight against becoming jaded to be the best spouses we can be.

I’m grateful we got stood up for dinner because it gave Nina and me the opportunity to talk, eat, and most importantly, try and find the magic that we lost somehow. She made apple crisp for dessert, which is pretty magical.

“ Dinner Date” is a series of stories written by Salisbury resident C.J. Fitzwater about the places and people he meets locally for dinner. If you are interested in meeting and telling your story, send him an email at cfitzwater@ymail.com.