Sunday, May 27, 2018
Protect & Serve
Last week we went to brunch at the place we're pretty sure gave us the norovirus a year and a half ago, and the service was pretty much as one might expect. Our waitress kicked things off by taking half of our order and then interrupting us to tell us she needed to get her notepad, because our orders were "getting complicated." (There were three of us, all ordering standard menu items.) Then, after we had been waiting about twenty minutes for our food, she cruised by to tell us that "it wasn't her fault" because she "definitely put our appetizer in so it would come out first," but "the kitchen had been really screwed up lately" and all the food would come at once.
Things from there were fairly uneventful until we had some empty plates, which she instructed us to help her clear. As in, she commanded us to stack the plates for her and pass them over, even going so far as to tell us we were "doing it wrong" and complain about how "you would think she could get some help." Then, when I gave her my credit card to pay, she shouted across the restaurant to ask me if she could also use her Banana Republic card to pay for things outside of Banana Republic. I did not venture a guess, though I wished her well.
Our journey together ended when she told us to have a good night, and then spent five minutes explaining that she doesn't usually work days because they're really only open during the day on Saturdays and Sundays, and she usually doesn't work then, unless someone asks her to switch shifts, which she really doesn't like to do because... and you get the idea.
I'm not kidding when I say that this whole experience genuinely made my week.
Saturday, May 12, 2018
Postcard From the Edge
So I had a little bit of a near death experience this week. I've been dog sitting for my sister, and the dogs decided to team up on me during one particularly rainy trip to their bathroom. While I was trying to pick up poop without dropping the umbrella or either leash, Aubrey gave a particularly fierce yank on her lead, causing it to pop out of my hand, leaving me only with the plastic thing that holds her poop bags. She immediately darted out into traffic, at which point I basically threw myself in front of a car so I could stomp on her leash and keep her from getting any further. Thank God this was unusually slow moving traffic for my neighborhood and I did not end up doing a header off a windshield; I just got screamed at, which probably would have happened anyway, frankly. We all got very wet, though, a result the dogs somehow seemed to blame me for as the night progressed.
Other than that, it was a perfectly fine week. Ian was in Boston for work, which did make me go a little crazy and talk to the dogs more than is socially acceptable, but I largely kept it together. I also somehow got our TV kicked off our internet, which shockingly depleted my YouTube options, but that's a small quibble. Ian got back last night, such that I was able to go see my friend's community theater production of Chicago, ironically enough in the suburbs, which allowed my friends and I to take the Metra and drink canned rose. Oh, and tonight we discovered that we can now get tapas delivered. So things are looking up. Though I'm definitely watching out for additional canine murder plots.
So I had a little bit of a near death experience this week. I've been dog sitting for my sister, and the dogs decided to team up on me during one particularly rainy trip to their bathroom. While I was trying to pick up poop without dropping the umbrella or either leash, Aubrey gave a particularly fierce yank on her lead, causing it to pop out of my hand, leaving me only with the plastic thing that holds her poop bags. She immediately darted out into traffic, at which point I basically threw myself in front of a car so I could stomp on her leash and keep her from getting any further. Thank God this was unusually slow moving traffic for my neighborhood and I did not end up doing a header off a windshield; I just got screamed at, which probably would have happened anyway, frankly. We all got very wet, though, a result the dogs somehow seemed to blame me for as the night progressed.
Other than that, it was a perfectly fine week. Ian was in Boston for work, which did make me go a little crazy and talk to the dogs more than is socially acceptable, but I largely kept it together. I also somehow got our TV kicked off our internet, which shockingly depleted my YouTube options, but that's a small quibble. Ian got back last night, such that I was able to go see my friend's community theater production of Chicago, ironically enough in the suburbs, which allowed my friends and I to take the Metra and drink canned rose. Oh, and tonight we discovered that we can now get tapas delivered. So things are looking up. Though I'm definitely watching out for additional canine murder plots.
