On a recent visit to a local Hoss’s Restaurant,
my wife and I were once again the subjects of an episode in our gracefully
aging lives. Perhaps you might be able to identify with what happens when
hunger and uncertainty mix with a lethal dose of stubbornness to form a
mysterious malady.
We placed our order – each selecting the salad bar for our
meal and an ice water as our beverage. [Please
note: A week earlier we both decided that we were going to start to eat more healthy
foods and vowed to lose some weight. To
put it bluntly, from dieting all week, I was hungry.]
Nothing Escapes My
Sharp Eye
We were seated by a young man in the customary fashion. I noticed immediately that the sun was shining
right in my eyes as I sat down, but I didn’t care much as the warm rays were
welcome on this cold February day. He
picked up the two not-to-be-used place settings on our table, left the
remaining two settings in place, rested the order booklet on the table and
said, “Your waitress will be here shortly. You may help yourselves to the salad
bar.”
Forgive the following details, but they are an integral part
of this narrative. I set my coat and
gloves next to me on the empty chair. In addition to her coat and gloves, my
wife also placed her reading glasses and scarf next to her, too. And off to the salad bar we trekked.
I returned with my two heaping salad plates, placed them on
the table, and then proceeded back to the buffet area to fill a bowl with French
onion soup. Finally, back at our table,
I unfolded my napkin in anticipation of that hot, aromatic soup. As I did, I couldn’t help but notice that the
sun was no longer shining in my eyes. “Hmm, that sun set rather quickly,” I
thought.
Funny, but I was completely unaware of the fact that there
were now four place settings on our table.
I also didn’t realize that none of our clothes or my wife’s glasses were
present, either. Come to think of it, I
didn’t even notice that MY WIFE WASN’T PRESENT. Remember, I was hungry.
Hot, Aromatic French Onion Soup with plenty of croutons and cheese
What I did notice was that my soup was brimming with a dozen
huge flavored croutons and was smothered under a quarter pound of shredded
mozzarella cheese. I couldn’t wait to
taste it.
Happy to Render Assistance
Just then, a waitress popped into the picture. With her
hands on her hips and a puzzled look, she asked, “Who seated you here,
sir?” I replied that the young gentleman
out front assigned the seats to us.
Then, without hesitation, I offered her some unsolicited information
concerning our beverages. “We ordered
only ice water to drink,” I cheerfully advised.
“Maybe that will help you.”
Still puzzled, the waitress then asked, “But where is the
booklet that holds your order?”
Always willing to lend a helping hand, I replied, “Maybe it
was picked up by another waitress, thinking her tip was in it – the tip left
behind by a previous customer.”
She shrugged her shoulders and headed off in another
direction while I was getting more and more annoyed with the fact that I hadn’t
yet been able to sample that soup.
Recalling horrific incidents when all three of my children
waited tables, I tempered my impatience with the thought, “That poor waitress
must be having a bad day. I’m not going to give her a rough time and make the
situation worse.”
My wife will agree, I’m sure, that I can be very
accommodating to others, regardless of my mental state. But, in this case, I may have been too hungry
to realize that the waitress was gently trying to tell me that I just might
have made a mistake regarding my seat.
Then another waitress appeared and asked, “Excuse me sir,
but are you dining with the lady with blonde hair?” Because my wife recently changed her hair
color and no one had referred to her as a blonde before, I hesitated with my
answer.
I’m sure I resembled a…..well…...large, hungry, homeless
(remember, I have no coat or gloves), confused grandfather on the verge of
total dementia and who is always right. “Yes,
I am with her,” I eventually replied.
“Well, she is seated over there,” she explained, as she
pointed to another section of the restaurant.
Time to Face Facts
Both waitresses then assisted this old decrepit geezer with
his arthritic knees, his two plates, and his bowl to his former seat where his
wife was patiently waiting for him. Of
course, with my health issues, she wore a look of concern on her face. “Where have you been?” she asked anxiously. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t even
muster up a response.
Could this story get any worse? Of course it could. As I was
being escorted from one section to the other, I noticed that a young couple and
their two young children had witnessed this whole scenario. With a
huge smile on the man’s face, using his hands in gestures and eventually
laughing out loud, he tried to console me – or so I thought. To be honest, my hearing is so bad that I
didn’t understand a single word he said.
I returned a smile, with my tomato-red face, in his direction and just
kept walking.
Both waitresses continued to reassure me a dozen times,
“This happens all the time, sir. Please
don’t worry about it.” I knew, however, they were just trying to be nice. “Yes, it happens when a customer is 9 or 90,
but it shouldn’t be happening to me,” I thought in silence.
I don’t think our shoulders stopped shaking with laughter
during our entire trip back home that evening.
My wife’s final comment on the situation was truly fitting, “If only you
weren’t so sure that you’re always right!”
I replied, again in thought only, certain that she was mistaken,
“If only that French onion soup hadn’t smelled so good.”
