So, once I figured out what day it was I said 'yes' to her proposal and ran into my room to get ready to greet people other than my children.
I was as excited as I could be for someone who has fully entered her 'winter coma phase'. I fucking hate winter. I'm all foggy headed and slow. It's stupid.
So I stumbled to my closet and attempted to pretty myself up. My friend arrived and we drove into Old Town for Thursday night (yes, yesterday was Thursday) book club! When we entered the selected establishment, we walked into an almost empty restaurant to see some of our friends already seated.
There was something off in the place. Something I can only describe as a 'strange vibe'. Then I figured out it was the waitress. I secretly think that she was plotting our death. I'm about 70% sure that she may have been a zombie.
|Well, this is welcoming.... who's hungry?|
She stalked around like a stiff old cat, barely moving her head, never smiling and looking at the patrons from the corners of her eyes.
She actually made me feel as if I had intruded on her private residence, expecting her to do outlandish things for me. Ridiculous things, like bring me a glass of wine. It took her 15 minutes to even ask me and my friend what we wanted (even though she was at our table five times prior to that, never once making eye contact with us), and when we both ordered only wine, she said in a judgy mother-in-law kind of way "What? You don't want any food?" She also scolded about half of the table on the location of their purse, demanded in a super uncomfortable school-marm way that we hand her EVERY menu on the table, even though some people wanted dessert and weren't finished looking at the menu, and she had the general air of a nun who was asked to leave the convent because she had too much of a God Complex. Then she did the worst thing any waiter can do.... someone asked about some soup and she replied with "I don't know, I'm a vegetarian."
Whatever- I know she eats brains....
NOOOOOOO! I don't give a crap if you are a vegan who only eats organic greens, braids baskets out of hemp and grinds your own flour, if you are a waiter/waitress and someone asks you about an item, you say it is delicious (unless you know people hate it, then you recommend something else). Period. We don't need to know how you plan to boycott taxidermy or if you think cows should only be on earth to look pretty in the meadow.
But hey, maybe I'm just reading into it a little too much.
It is winter, which is the stupidest season EVER. Did I mention that already?
Anyway, trying to laugh and be fun on my one night out of the house under the watchful eye of this judgmental, PETA loving biddy kind of ruined my evening. Plus none of the other people in the restaurant were attractive (except my friends of course) and I found that to be extremely.... well.... boring.
So I propose three things:
1.) Anyone with serious control issues that feels the need to comment on what people are ordering and the way you place your purse should probably not be in food service. In fact, don't do any job that requires you to be around the public. Maybe you should just stick to knitting sweaters for cats and selling them on E-bay (the cat sweaters, not the cats. They would be too hard to ship.)
2.) I need a do-over, because that wasn't what my one night out for the month of January was supposed to be like. If I wanted to be around someone judging what I eat or don't eat (or drink) and where I set my personal property, I would have stayed home and listened to myself talk to my small children about those things: "Eat ALL your food. Stop blowing into that straw. Pick up those toys."
3.) If you live in my city and you are going out in Old Town, please make yourself look fabulous so that I won't be disappointed in the scenery.
Peace, Love and Uniporn,
|My homette Sarah sent me this picture and called|
I wanted to share it with all of you who
voted me as an ALL-STAR in the League
of Funny Bitches.