Last night, I stepped up to the hostess stand and was greeted by a cheerful young hostess awaiting me with her laptop, a pad, and a colored pencil. She asked how many were in my party please. And I said “just one.” Tapping on a—not turned on laptop—was needed to check table availability. I was in luck. A table was available even though she wrote my name and the number in my party on a waiting list.
I was told to “Come right this way please” and I was led to a large table that had a little clutter (including my mail, folded laundry, and the added bonus of a sleeping cat that my hostess quickly shooed away). At the place setting was a red woven placemat, a glass for water, another for wine, a fork (on the left), and a white paper napkin with a fork, knife, and spoon (in that order) on top of it, salt and pepper shakers, and a pineapple candle I was asked to light because my hostess didn’t know how to work the lighter. I obliged. The candle smelled like Hawaii.
A chair was pulled out for me and I was asked by my gracious hostess who became my food server to please sit down. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked, as she handed me a menu that had on the flip side Appetizers that included: pretzels, edamame, fruit snacks, a yogurt snack stick, and a few other delectable selections if you are 11 years old.
I asked for a little wine and water, my server wrote these down on her pad and left to turn on YouTube music and specifically my favorite song right now: Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. She returned moments later and placed down my beverages and was ready to take my order.
Hummm, I scanned them menu. I declined an Appetizer simply because, I said, as good as it all sounded, I was trying to be less “extra” (we don’t say “fat” in our house, or “lazy,” for that matter —a word I proclaim not to know the meaning of).
I asked for two tacos (the ones the food server didn’t eat last night at a restaurant and we took home). As I was enjoying the music, no phone around, and was browsing through a book on a Dalmatian that lived at a Fire House, my plate of food arrived: two tacos, warmed up slightly, just as I ordered. I was asked if I wanted salsa.
“Yes,” I said, “The one that came with the tacos last night.” Unfortunately, my food server had to confess that she ate up all of that “good” salsa with chips, so sadly, it was no longer available. I told her I would take whatever salsa was available. I proceeded to eat the filling of each taco but not the soft doubled-up corn tortillas that were drenched in juices and no doubt delicious. My food server watched as I scrapped off and ate the filling (the part she doesn’t like) and I asked if she would like to eat the tortillas? She said, “Yes, please.” And, all four of them were gobbled up in no time.
And then, as my food server gave me time to enjoy my meal, well, she got distracted on YouTube and the next thing I knew Bohemian Rhapsody gave way to a YouTuber who does “squishy makeovers” and has over 7 millions views. That’s right, 7 million views to watch a teen squirt fabric glue and paint onto torn squishys to make them look new. Yep, 7 million views.
“…Any way the wind blows …” (giant gong crash sound).
—SBM
Single Busy Mommy 