HOMETOWN VIEWS
Ooooooh I just have to tell you, my little old tubby hubby Wayne and I have just come back from a local restaurant and I’m so disappointed that I’m not even going to tell you the name of it. I won’t even hint as to where we were just in case our service was a mistake and not the way they are starting to handle customers over there.
My cute little tubby hubby and I decided to chance going out even though the walks were icy. Slipping and falling at our age usually means a broken something or other. We thought we’d try a restaurant that’s not too far from where we live. It’s not even a 10-minute drive including getting Wayne dressed for going out. You know the routine. I had just gotten him all dressed up in his snowmobile suit, his 7-buckle Artic goulashes, his fuzzy wuzzy Siberian hat, and his Scooby Doo muffler when, wouldn’t you just know it; he had to go to the bathroom. And you don’t know Wayne. When he goes he has to get completely undressed and I mean ‘completely’. Land-A-Goshen, I hope he doesn’t do that in public restrooms but who knows? I sure don’t want to know.
By the time I got him dressed again it was almost noon but since they serve breakfast all day long, we didn’t worry about it. We should have. That morning was full of mistakes the moment we left our house. Here’s what happened:
Wayne shut the car door on his thumb. Then he caught his scarf in the restaurant door going in – I had to come back out the other door and pull his scarf in reverse to free him up. The waitress seated us right behind some kids that kept jumping up and down and shaking our booth. We had to move to another booth where Wayne spilled his water and then we had to move again. Getting the picture? We hadn’t even ordered yet. Then things turned from bad to just plain blaaaaaaaaaaaaa. That’s the only way I can describe it. I also ripped my new underwear on a splinter somewhere between the booth and the ladies room just before the real trouble happened.
I ordered three eggs over hard, hash browns, sliced ham, coffee, and buttered biscuits with two of those little strawberry jam thingys. Wayne ordered three eggs over easy, hash browns, bacon strips, coffee, and buttered rye toast with four of those little strawberry jam thingys. Here is what we got (after a 45 minute wait for them to thaw out their hash browns or wait for the chickens to lay the eggs or whatever we were told):
Wayne got two eggs over easy and one over hard with a broken yoke, hash browns, coffee, sausage links, and dry whole-wheat toast with two grape jelly thingys.
I got three eggs over easy, hash browns, coffee, a small ham slice, coffee, and dry whole-wheat toast with two strawberry jam thingys. Part of our order was right and part was completely wrong.
We didn’t order dry whole-wheat toast; Wayne wanted rye and I wanted biscuits and we wanted them buttered. Wayne got sausage links, not bacon strips and I got a small slice of ham, not a decent slice at all. Neither of us likes grape jelly and neither of us like eggs with the yoke broken unless we order scrambled eggs, which we didn’t. And that, dear readers, is why Wayne left a very small tip and justly so. The good news? They gave us free coffee and kept our cups full.
Like I said, I won’t mention the name of the restaurant since we go there every so often. I do hope they were just having a “bad hair day” or whatever they call it when nothing seems to go right. I do hope they were maybe teaching the waitress how to take orders, teaching the cook how to read orders, or had a good excuse for ‘screwing up’ our orders, as Wayne indicated. He did not say those exact words after we got home, the sweet little foul-mouthed ex-Navy dear. You know those Navy guys; they have a name for everything. Who ever heard of anyone going to the bathroom and doing a number 1 or a number 2 in a place called the ‘HEAD’. Sounds indecent. Anyway he further stated that it was a FUBAR morning, whatever that is.
Anyway, I won’t even give the restaurant a fork count this time and we will wait a few weeks before going back. I do hope they have everything straightened out by then and everything is back on track. Wayne and I ended up laughing about ripping my underwear, about getting him dressed, and undressed, and getting his thumb caught in the car door, and his scarf caught in the restaurant door, and the ‘screwed up’ breakfast orders, and the look on the waitress’ face when she got her small tip, and the kid behind us who lost his lollypop (it came home on top of Wayne’s fuzzy wuzzy hat), and we laughed about the whole stupid morning. We decided to go back to bed and start all over again. It took us a nice long 15 minutes before we got out; soooooo until next time, Taa Taaa!
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