Monday, May 2, 2016

Is This Personal?

My husband and I went to a restaurant down the street this past weekend.  The place was a bit busy for a Saturday afternoon, but not especially so.  We were seated, given our menus, and the hostess brought our drinks to the table.  Larry and I perused our menus while we waited for the waitress to take our order. 

We watched the waitress go to every other table.  She skipped ours.  We waited.  Fifteen minutes later, we were still waiting.  I've been in food service, I understand how crazy things can get sometimes. But fifteen minutes?   I finally got up and approached the waitress. 

"Excuse me, but we've been waiting for over fifteen minutes for you to take our order,"  I wasn't rude; I spoke calmly. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Let me take your order right now!"  The waitress appeared to be appropriately apologetic, and she followed me back to our table and took our order.  Our food came out quickly compared to our wait to order.  We dug in, but first, I asked for mayo. 

"Sure, I'll be right back with that," The waitress walked away from our table.  I watched her walk around to other tables. I watched her cleaning tables.  I did not watch her get any mayo, because she did not. 

This was starting to feel personal. 

Another waitress finally showed up, and I snagged her.  This waitress, older and wiser, immediately went and got the mayo for me, which was fine.  What wasn't fine was that this waitress proceeded to make excuses for the other one.  I didn't care if she was having a bad day; I just wanted my mayo. 
Finally the meal was over, and we waited for the waitress to bring our bill.  And waited.  And waited.

Yep. Personal.  Maybe I looked like her worst enemy from high school?  Did Larry look like her ex-boyfriend? 

I finally got up and went to the cash register, where the manager made the mistake of asking me how everything was.  I told her.  I wasn't angry, just befuddled by our treatment. I was used to people treating me nicely because I had cancer.  Apparently our waitress makes a habit of this particular behavior; the manager sighed heavily and lowered our bill to ten dollars. 

Okay, not so personal. 

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

100 Words: Search

I've always been an explorer. Not the traditional kind. I don't have the energy or attention span for that.  My explorations involve the search for knowledge.

Back before the internet that search was intimidating. No Google, no Siri.  It was all about going to the library and hitting the books until you found what you were looking for.  My first attempt at searching for answers involved Gray's Anatomy. I was only five, but I was fascinated by the heavy tome.  Here were the answers to questions I hadn't even thought of yet! 

It was love by the first page turn.

Go check out Tara's Thin Spiral Notebook, to check out the 100 Word Challenge.  Join in!  

Monday, April 25, 2016

The Holder of All Things

Last Friday found me at my son's school for Field Day.  Most Field Days at elementary schools involve races and other feats of athleticism.  However, since this is San Antonio, and it is Fiesta time, Zane's Field Day was more about the party, and less about athletics.  As I waited around for Zane's class, I was thinking of food, which is what I do with my free time, now that I don't have chemotherapy.  There were several booths offering sausages, hot dogs, nachos, cookies, and sno cones.  Normal Fiesta fare, except not at 8:30 in the morning.

Then the students came out, each class dressed in a different color shirt for easier location.  I found Zane's class in time to hear Zane's teacher pairing the kids off so that they could meander the fair together.  Zane spotted me and attached himself to my side.  He also brought several of his classmates. The group of us wandered about, with the boys running from the cart races, the bouncy castles,  the tattoo booth, etc.

It began simply enough; one of the boys asking me to hold on to his jacket.  No problem, I told him, wrapping it around my purse for safekeeping.  We wandered around some more, and then the boys decided that they wanted to try one of those fishing games where there are clothespins on the line.  Each boy got a little bag of treats on their line.

And what do boys usually do with the extras they collect along the way?

They give them to their moms. If their mom isn't handy, they give the item to the person closest to matching that description. That was me.  I suddenly found myself carrying five tiny bags of goldfish crackers along with a jacket.  Then the boys wanted something to drink, so they went to the drink booth.  They all sat along the curb, drinking their Gatorade, until they decided on their next activity.  But none of them had finished their drinks!

Guess who got to hold those?
I also held napkins, empty sno cone cups, spoons, and other items over the course of the two hours I was there.  As I followed after the boys, my arms loaded down with the detritus of five little boys, I finally had to laugh.  I was a Mom.  This is part of motherhood, carrying the burdens of others. We have that kind of bond with our children.  I carry my son in my heart, and I guess that means I carry all the other things he will encounter as well.  Sometimes those burdens will be as easy and simple as sno cone cups and little bags of goldfish crackers.  Other times, the weight will end up being heavier.  I hope those times are few and far between, but whatever happens, I'll be there.

That's my job. Mothers are the Holders of All Things, be they heartaches... or Gatorade.