I WAS sitting in my semmit and sandals on the Costa del Clyde with a piña colada in hand
It was bliss, until I heard the little lady holler "Tec, wash and up and brush up."
I guess that meant we were heading out.
"Start spreading the news Tec, we're leaving today," the Moll sang, but I was none the wiser.
Turns out we were going the NY American Grill at Princes Square. Aircon cranked up in the Buick, we sped off.
Right on cue we arrived at the joint for 7pm. Toots had booked it all online.
I was pipped at the front of the queue by some wise guy. Turned out it was an old mucker of mine, but I had to whisper that I was undercover.
Our hostess was bemused when we gave our name for the party of two.
"We don't have your booking here," she said.
The Moll's face was going as red as her talons.
"We booked online and have been bombarded with emails ever since, so how can you not have our booking," a fiery Toots piped up.
We were informed it wasn't a problem and there were plenty of seats.
Toots' face was a picture -think Edvard Munch's The Scream - when offered a table in the middle of the shopping mall.
We were told we could go indoors.
Toots: "Can we have a booth?"
Server: "No, they are reserved."
"We booked, so surely reserved for us," replied the Moll, ever hopeful.
That was a no.
Eventually we took a pew, not much to look at and two doors down from the loos - the night wasn't off to a great start.
We ordered up a couple of rose wines, and fast. That would take the edge off The Moll's mood.
A quick scran scan and it all looked delightful. Shrimp, crab cakes, Key lime deserts, the menu was a culinary roadtrip from Boston to Miami.
My peepers honed in on bread and olive oil, which had to be followed by the New York strip sirloin.
While fish lover Toots was eyeing up the coconut shrimp and fish tacos.
Our pleasant server took our orders quickly.
And the chilled rose was just what we needed.
We began to relax and took in the place.
Ice queen Moll was beginning to thaw with each sip of vino.
Her ladyship was soon presented with her starter of coconut shrimp with mango sauce on the side.
My bread and olive oil was tasty enough and I stole a shrimp too.
They were certainly hot enough, but just a tad overcooked.
On to the main event.
I knew the chef would love me when I asked for my steak well done. My NY strip sirloin arrived and I could see a touch of pink.
It had to go back for further cremation.
Toots' tacos arrived and was a plentiful portion.
Battered fish, guacamole, sour cream in crisp tacos.
It looked difficult to eat, but Toots soon got her paws around them.
My steak returned and was just how I like it.
It had a lovely charcoal flavour, but the fries could have been dipped in the frier a bit longer.
Toots was beginning to admit defeat and couldn't manage all her meal.
So there would certainly be no room for dessert.
I had been sweating all day in the summer sun - now came the hard part, sweating over the bill.
It came in at around £64, which seemed a bit steep for what we'd had.
While the great city of the same name, might be so good they named it twice, for us, I think this joint might be a case of once bitten, twice shy.