A few years ago, my Dad and I were enjoying lunch at the Marathon Grill at 18th & Market. The tables at Marathon are situated fairly close together, with no more than a few inches separating them. We were seated at a table for two when Pat and his fiancée were seated by the hostess at the table next to ours.
Now I'm not sure if Pat just didn't like the looks of us, or if he wanted to have a semi-private conversation with his lady, but he called the hostess back over and whispered something to her. A few seconds later, they were whisked away to a table in the corner affording a little more privacy. Thus ended our lunch with Pat the Bat.