1. Last night Rich and I went out to dinner with old friends. It was a great evening despite the following:
a. The restaurant was empty save for the stoned wait staff. (My grandmother always preached that an empty restaurant was a bad sign. That, and if there were no Chinese patrons in a Chinese restaurant run, don’t walk to your car and find a new one. She was crazy, but I think she might have been onto something with that one.)
b. As mentioned above, our waiter was stoned. Baked. High as a kite. Soaring. Dreaming of Doritos.
c. Due to waiter’s altered state, not only were our drinks not replenished and our water glasses not filled, he also only managed to take in two of the four patron’s orders. This was not clear until two plates were put down and two people were left waiting. For twenty minutes. It was also particularly perplexing because the two forgotten orders were the ones which included conversation, one of which I shall document:
Stoned Waiter: How would you like that cooked?
Dinner companion: How does the chef prefer to cook it?
Stoned Waiter: Rare to medium rare.
Dinner Companion: Sounds good.
Now you tell me…how can that exchange not register? Oh, right, he was stoned. (The waiter, that is)
d. I then took it upon myself to wave down the stoned waiter. He, and I swear this to be true, waved back. Then, apparently, his one remaining synapse fired and he came over. The sight of one Seafood Fra Diavlo and one Prime Rib alongside the two hungry looking dinner companions still didn’t jar him alert. He all but shrugged and walked away. Time for the big guns –
Is the manager available?
e. Now young, embarassed and, I would guess, irritated owner came over, saw what was happening and assured us he would take care of things. He did so by not only hurrying up the missing orders, but for some reason, also replacing the ones that had not only been delivered, but were half consumed (our dinner companions insisted upon our eating…went against everything I’ve been taught). This was followed up by another round of drinks, dessert for all, coffee, the whole shebang.
f. Then came time for the bill. Much to our delight, not only did they comp the entire meal (and send the two of us home with the complete second set orders to boot) but also slipped us a $100 gift card. All in all, a good feed for nothing more than a very generous tip to the unstoned waiter who took over for Spicoli.
g. Note to self: use that gift card and use it fast. I suspect the restaurant isn’t going to be around much longer.
2. Today Georgie went back to camp after having had a fever for the past three days. I love my kid. I might love camp more.
3. New favorite show: “Nurse Jackie”
4. After having spent several thousand dollars on overnight camp for Harrison I would really appreciate it if he could manage to throw himself in front of a camera so I can have one lousy thrill from bunk1.com
5. Today I asked Georgie, I thought rhetorically, “who is better than me?” He responded with a list of names. See #2 above.
6. I was a little bitter today when I went for my monthly weigh in as a Lifetime Member of Weight Watchers thinking I was having a good number day only to have their freakin’ scale try to say I was up a pound. Stupid ass scale.
7. I wore a new pair of leggings to Pilates this morning. They have a pretty pink design at the waist complete with a “v”ed seam. I was sure my butt was hanging out through the whole class. My gym rat buddy assured me it wasn’t. I sincerely hope she was being honest.
8. On schedule for tomorrow: gym, appointment with oncologist (no worries, I see him every January and July), lunch with oldest bestest friend, meeting with therapist (no worries, I see her whenever I can), dinner with awesome college friends. On schedule remainder of summer: nothing.
9. I’m trying really hard to like “Kathy Griffin, Life on the D List”. An old (dear) friend told me she pees herself watching it. Best I can tell, it has more to do with her aging bladder than anything else.
10. 7:16 p.m. - Georgie watching ”Penguins of Madagascar”, Rich sitting next to him snoring. Loudly. He’ll deny it when we shake him.
