REPORTER’S NOTEBOOK:

Answer: Dining.

Question: What’s something you wouldn’t find on my top 10 list of things I would enjoy doing in the dark?

Surprisingly, though, I had a very enjoyable — and enlightening — experience Friday evening as a guest at the “Dining in the Dark” event hosted by the Orange County chapter of the Foundation Fighting Blindness at the Fairmont Hotel in Newport Beach.

More than 300 people were assembled in the ballroom. The tables, spaced far enough apart for our vision-impaired servers to navigate the room, were set for eight people, with silverware, glasses, wine bottles and bread baskets. Stanchions and ropes were strategically placed to make it easier for the servers to move among the tables.

The Foundation Fighting Blindness is a nationwide organization dedicated to funding research that will help prevent, treat and hopefully, find a cure for people affected by retinitis pigmentosa, macular degeneration and other degenerative retinal diseases.

What a unique and creative way, I thought, to educate the public about the challenges blind people face every day.

I’m nearsighted and wear corrective lenses. I wake up several times during the night, and in the dark, find my way easily to the kitchen or bathroom. It’s so different, though, when you’re in familiar territory. At dinner, I wouldn’t have attempted to find my way out of that room. All the exit signs, doors and openings to the room were covered with black drapes, so we would be in total darkness. Fire marshals were on hand, however, for safety reasons, so there was no need to be alarmed.

The evening began with the lights on. Salad was served, and we were treated to a wonderful performance by the Johnny Mercer Children’s Choir from the Braille Institute.

While I could see, I paid attention to everyone at my table, trying to match voices with faces for future reference.

I also made sure I placed my silverware and glasses where I could get to them easily. I had a wine glass and a water glass, each of which was distinctive in size and shape. The water glass was taller, beveled, or octagonal, so when I grabbed it, I knew by touch alone it was the water glass.

Once the program ended, the lights were dimmed and went off for about 30 seconds. That gave people a chance to make sure they felt comfortable enough to stay and eat in darkness. When the lights shone again briefly, I didn’t see anyone leave. The lights then went off for good. Our server, Sara Quinn, is the world’s only blind model. She didn’t lose her sight until she was 15, so she has some sense of what things look like, she said. I couldn’t help but wonder how blind people leave the house, not knowing whether their clothes were on backward or their socks matched. What about makeup, jewelry, stuff in your teeth?

“I have a really good visual sense about me, which in my field is really important — to be put together. I’m a meticulous person, and I give myself the once over. When I get dressed, I can tell if something doesn’t feel right,” Sara said.

Sara served a plate of food to the person closest to her, and then it was a round robin of passing them along until we all had one. The first thing I did was stick my fork in the food to get a feel for what was there and where it was.

I expected people at the table, including myself, to be so focused on trying to eat that there wouldn’t be much conversation. I couldn’t have been more wrong. We were all talking, constantly asking each other questions.

Have you eaten the chicken yet? It is chicken, isn’t it? Have you tried the potatoes? There’s asparagus? Where is it? Has anyone else eaten a carrot? Do you want water? Wine? Has anyone ever tasted food this good?

Your senses are assaulted. I mean honestly, the food smelled incredibly good right from the start. And it was delicious. Was that because it really was that good, or because we were more aware than we normally would be? Because our other senses were sharper than normal? I would vote for the latter.

Many vision-impaired people ask the server or someone at their table in a restaurant to identify where items are on the plate based on a clock. Chicken at 12 o’clock, asparagus at 9 o’clock.

My asparagus was at 9 o’clock. I found that out by sticking my finger in my plate. I found the chicken and the potatoes with my fork, no problem. I just couldn’t get the asparagus to stay on my fork. I admit I ate every one with my fingers; it was much easier that way.

Luckily I was in the dark, and so was everyone else.

Vision-impaired people don’t have that luxury. In a public place, like a restaurant, they can’t see, but everyone else can see them. I doubt they’d lick their fingers like I did, or try to negotiate chewing the huge pieces of chicken I was sure I had cut into petite pieces with my knife and fork.

People were pouring water from a pitcher into their glasses, so I decided to try it. I held the pitcher by the handle, felt the top of my water glass, and poured. The water went into the glass, and all over my lap. Oh well, we were still in the dark, and I figured I’d dry by dessert. When the lights came back on, there wasn’t a drop of food on my plate. Between my fingers and the fork, I had managed to eat every morsel.

Dinner was over, the lights were on, and dessert was served.

I was so conscious of the fact that for some, it was still dark in their corner of the world.

For more information on the Foundation Fighting Blindness, go to www.fightblindness.org.

SUE THOENSEN may be reached at (714) 966-4627 or at [email protected].