There are tons of great restaurants out there, with excellent food. What gets me coming back, besides a superb artichoke snapper, is the service. It's the little things, like how fast I'm seated, and how quickly after I am seated does a waiter show up, and whether they know the best wine to serve with snapper. But I have a dark secret: I am a sucker for an obsequious waiter. I adore them. My ice cold heart melts a little inside when I get that kind of fawning attention. It is nice to have someone fussing over you every now and then. Oh, I am sure that if I had it all the time, it would get on my nerves and I would hate it. But for the duration of my meal, to have someone hovering and seeming to cater to my whims makes me smile.
I got this fortune in a fortune cookie, and I really like it. Heroes don't have to look like Bruce Campbell and fight a zombie horde created from an evil book, but that's what we expect. Look what that kind of pressure did to Lance!
I went to eat by myself the other day, because I've heard that most people would rather have root canal than eat by themselves. I decided to test that theory. Not my usual fast food drive-through experience, but an actual sit down restaurant. I sat in the middle of the room with my back to the door, which is so completely unlike me. I went completely out of character! It was interesting. Lots of men dine alone in restaurants, I've observed, but not many women. Why is that? Is it because eating is so closely tied to socializing? I thought that I would feel uncomfortable. After the initial once-over by the other patrons, I was left alone with my thoughts, which were on...queso. But I refrained, and had the much healthier salsa with my chips. I did not feel rushed by anyone, I read a few emails on my phone, and just enjoyed the moment.
I have a dirty mind, people tell me. They are probably right. I've been told that this means that I am a closet Freudian, but I just think that my mind likes to wander in that direction because it's usually a more interesting place. When people say things that my mind considers off color, whether it was intended so or not, I want to giggle. If what is said is actually meant to be off color? I might actually laugh. Out loud. Sometimes I can cover that with a cough or two, but my son wasn't born yesterday. He always wants to know why I am laughing, and I am sure not going to tell him. I had to figure all that double entendre' out for myself. Kids today have it easy!
I am thinking about going to one of the board meetings for our subdivision. Why would I subject myself to such a horrible cesspool of political intrigue(second only to the average PTA)? Because I think they should install speed bumps on the street that intersects mine. It's a straight road, with enough time to build up speed before you hit a sharp right, and people speed. How do I know that people speed? Easy--dead animals. If you are going the speed limit, like you are supposed to, you should have enough time to hit the brakes and avoid hitting Mr. Kitty or Rocky Raccoon. Every time I see a dead animal in the middle of the road, I start thinking that that could have been a child, or an old person, and I don't want that. Well, there are certain people that I think deserve to be run over in the street, but those are my little day dreams when I'm frustrated.
I am visiting Stacy at Stacy Uncorked today. Go visit her, because she is awesome!