My folks and I met up at a restaurant a while back. Whew. To say that our waitress wasn't with it and seemed to fit in with the stereotypical cheerleader would be quite the understatement. She came up to our table and asked if we had ever been there before.
My dad said, "Yeah, 73 times."
She looked confused and said, "No, really? 73 times?"
My mom then butted in and said, "No, you can't take anything he says seriously."
The gal (her name was/is Ruth) said, "Oh really? Okay," with a serious look on her face.
Alright, since the menus were different than how we remembered them, she went through the menu and noted on the buffalo wings, that they had barbecue, mild and spicy, but no teriyaki yet, which she thought was lame. She asked if we wanted anything as a starter.
My dad responded with, "Yeah, we'll get the teriyaki buffalo wings."
I watched her as he was saying that and she looked right at her pad of paper, wrote and didn't hesitate when he said that.
My dad then said, "You don't have teriyaki buffalo wings."
At this point, she looked pissed.
Later, when my folks got their salads, she asked if they wanted pepper. After she got done with them, I asked for some pepper. Please let it be noted that my plate was bare. I didn't get a salad. I was salad-less. My plate was naked. She was about to lean over and give me pepper, until I butted in and said, "I'm just kidding."
Oh, and I didn't even mention we got there at 6 and she asked if it was before 7, because Happy Hour ended at 7. She said at 6, "Well, I guess there are a couple minutes left in Happy Hour." Whew... She was special...
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