High Tea

You have a reservation for 'high tea' at a well appointed downtown hotel on a Sunday afternoon. Briefly, you consider getting all dolled up in case there is a dress code, but then you remember how comfy your old worn jeans are and seeing as how they miraculously remain rip free, you assume they are more then good enough to be out and about especially when paired with a respectable top.
You arrive at the reserved time (2:30pm) reassuring yourself that there couldn't possibly be a dress code...that is until you get to the outer lobby and see all the other high tea reservees. They are clad in what can only be described as Easter Sunday best/finery despite the fact that Easter has come and gone. From all mannner of florals; hats, blouses, skirts and dresses for the ladies, to full suit and FLORAL ties or boutonnieres for the gents, at first glance, the scene was not unlike what I imagine the inner sanctum of a Fellini film would be. The servers in tails, advised us on our options in hushed tones befitting the nearly pompous aura that filled the seating space. We duly sniffed the proffered humidor of scents and whispered back our orders so as not to break the spell. There was a general air of quiet dignity that even I in my old cozy jeans was able to feel. From cucumber sandwiches to clotted cream and scones, this high tea was just perfect.