so if you don’t like it, quit reading. Oh, and they’re anonymous people, if that changes things for you.
My mom came up to hang out last night, and we went to one of favorite Italian restaurants here. It’s been around for a long time, but they just moved into a new fancy-schmancy building that looks like it’s trying to imitate the Cheesecake Factory decor, which is strange because it’s an Italian restaurant. I don’t know, maybe bland but gigantic and noisy wins.
Anyway, we sat outside on the patio, which put us quite close to the table next to us. As we were checking out the menu and realizing this new building also dictated a price increase, the girl across from us grabbed the oil and vinegar and started telling her boyfriend she wasn’t sure she wanted soy sauce on her bread. Despite her hesitation, she dripped a little bit on her bread plate, and put the olive oil on her boyfriend’s. She tasted it, but still wasn’t quite sure…I laughed internally.
While we were eating our dinner, our waiter served other tables around us, also calling them things like “my lady” and “big boss.” I could hear him a couple of tables behind us when a man must have asked a question about the menu. The waiter proceeded to explain what a “Mira pox” is, and I kid you not, he said “mira pox” at least ten times. Now this is kind of a snotty one, and I don’t really expect your average citizen to know how to pronounce mirepoix, or know what it is, but I do have higher expectations of wait staff. Especially irritating ones who call me “milady” all night. My silly brain kept thinking “A mira pox on both your houses!”
It was good entertainent.