Fibby in Il Fornaio

The other day, we made a spur-of-the-moment decision to have lunch at an Italian restaurant, Il Fornaio, in Manhattan Beach. We were seated in a little booth for two, the menus had come, we'd ordered and our svelte server had pedaled off to the kitchens.

As one waiting will do, I gazed around the restaurant. Customers were scattered in various groupings all down the long, long room. They looked to be business types, not surprising as there are a number of office buildings in the area. Idly, my eyes passed over a table, but one, to my left. I blinked. Was I actually seeing what I thought I was seeing? I slipped on my dark glasses and discreetly looked again.

Yes! The man in the crisp white shirt and dark suit had slipped his jacket off to reveal ... a shoulder holster with a gun in it! The man, blithe as could be, was talking to his table companions, two women and another man. But my eyes, behind dark glasses, were bugged out on stalks! An armed man in an Italian restaurant? This might not have a happy ending...but then again, it was Manhattan Beach, not Little Italy.

There is a federal building not far away on Aviation with a car-proof fence and a grass moat around it. We used to renew our passports there. Clearly this was an FBI agent (aka "Fibby".)

Federal Bureau of Investigation agents are certainly entitled to nice lunches. But ... if they're going to wear a gun, wouldn't they prefer a sandwich at their desks? Even if they are the good guys?