So it's Friday, and you know what that means for the Hubs and me: Date Night (aka dinner and the grocery store). It's a nearly 26 year ritual.
{We're nothing if not predictable consistent.}
The restaurant choices around town are not that exciting, which is proven by the fact that most of our residents consider the local Applebee's to be fine dining. Ahem. So when we want something different, we usually hit the Asian Buffet. How can you lose with all you can eat Fried Rice, Tacos, and Crab Legs, all in one place?! Now that is exciting! But hey, it doesn't stop there. No-sir-ee. We had all sorts of excitement this evening at the Asian Buffet.
First up, and never a surprise at any restaurant in this town, it was COLD in there. Why are restaurants always so damn cold? In the winter, I literally have to eat with my coat on for the entire meal. And this time of year, I simply want to eat with my coat on for the entire meal. What gives anyway? Doesn't this defeat the purpose of serving supposedly hot food to customers? It ain't gonna stay hot for long when it feels like it's 60 degrees in there, people! And if their plan is that making me cold will somehow make me want to spend more money, well, their plan fails miserably on every single dining excursion. Being cold makes me want to leave, and nothing more. So, note to restaurant owners: turn the A/C down, folks, and with the money you save, maybe you can finally afford some real Sweet-n-Low, instead of that pathetic pink impostor you think people don't notice is a crappy cheap substitute for the real deal.
Next, we were unfortunate enough to be seated right behind a family with one of "those" children. You know the ones I mean, right? The ones who are constantly standing up in the booth, turned around to look at you, and making all sorts of noise. But we can't really blame the munchkin-sized terrorists children for their behavior, now can we? When they're bouncing up and down in the booth, dropping food over the edge, or repeatedly asking, "what is her name, what is her name, what is her name?" it's not really their fault, is it?
I'm thinking, I'm thinking...
OK, no, it's the parents' fault. Because they are the ones in charge of their child's behavior, no? So what does this far-cry-from-mother-of-the-year-parent do? She tells the kid in some sickly, sugary sweet tone, "Kyle, sit down...time to turn around and sit down." She must have said that 4 times in under 5 minutes, with the same conviction I'd use if I was trying to get my grandson to eat some broccoli (no really, honey, it's good, try it, you'll love it!). And I guarantee you what the child actually heard is, "Kyle, you can sit down if you want, but I'm not gonna do anything if you don't, because I really don't care, so please continue to harass the couple behind you while I finish my egg roll."
WTH?
I'm just gonna say it, and you can lambaste me if you want to: Some people should NOT procreate. Send in the flaming arrows. Go ahead. I'm ready.
OK, and I also need to talk about the wait staff at the Asian Buffet. I seriously think they have Ninja training or something, because they move in so swiftly, from seemingly out of nowhere, and then they are gone just as quickly. No sooner have you eaten the last crumb of food from your plate than they are sweeping in to take said dirty plate away. Tonight, the Hubs had just put his last bite of food in his mouth and his fork was still in hand and in a downward motion, when our waitress swooped in and grabbed the plate just as the fork touched down. And then she was out of sight. Ninja skills. Seriously.
Finally, after enduring the cold, and the noisy display of bad parenting seated behind us, we finished our meal and awaited our parting gifts: the fortune cookies. I mean really, who doesn't love fortune cookies? OK well, we don't, but we do love opening our fortunes. When the ninja waitress returned with our cookies, there was just one slight problem though. We each got a fortune cookie package, but one looked like this:
For real...it was totally empty! I don't know about you, but I'm thinking that is some sort of karmic message or something. Hmmm, so either our future is empty...or maybe it's just our bank account. We don't exactly need Confucius to tell us that, now do we?
The Hubs did get a replacement fortune cookie, and his fortune was (as is often the case, in my experience) not a fortune at all. I mean, isn't it supposed to tell you something about the future? But they never really seem to do that. His fortune was just a blatant rip off of the Golden Rule...do unto others, etc etc. That is not a fortune, if you ask me. That's just common sense. And a lesson learned...from good parenting.
But anyhoots...I got a fortune too. And at least mine was funny.
You are the crispy noodle in the vegetarian salad of life.
And guess what? I totally agree. I don't wanna toot my own horn or anything, but I AM the crispy noodle in the vegetarian salad of life.
(And I'm Tinalicious too.) *wink*
Take care all, and Happy Mother's Day to all the other crispy noodles in the world.