So after discussing how I was going to post all these serious topic on my blog, I had something funny happen today that I had to post on because I do it ALL THE TIME.
So I will set my Penne' (pun intended) to proverbial paper and tell the sad tale of my Italian restaurant experience.
My friends and I went out to Carinos after church for some Italian food. I love Italian food, (I'm mostly Italian) and now in these days of RICO laws and chain Italian restaurants we don't have to worry so much about being the innocent victim in a mob hit or anything!
But anyway, we sit down at the table after saying hello to all the people we knew who just happened to be in there as well, (which is weird because we all drove an hour to get here...) and we order our food.
Well, it took forever for our food to arrive due to the antics of the most inept waiter the world has ever seen. I kid you not, this guy was awful. We had no silver ware for 30 minutes, as well as no bread for awhile. But the supremely hilarious moment came when he poured tea in my coke without asking what I was drinking...
Finally our food arrived, but at this point I had already gorged myself on garlic bread, soup, and tea diluted Coke.
I ate about 3 bites of my entree' and decided to call it quits and save the rest for supper tonight. So I get my to go box and put my unfinished food in it.
So by the time the girls got back from the restroom, (why girls go in pairs I'll never know) and argued with the waiter who somehow became convinced that I was picking up the entire check, and checked to be sure he hadn't overcharged me, I had completely forgotten my uneaten meal lying on the table. Sigh...
I pulled out of the parking lot and then suddenly remembered my box sitting sadly on our table, but I didn't have the heart to go back and get it. My poor pasta was left behind.
The funny (and really annoying) thing is that I do this literally all the time. I don't know that I have ever taken my own to go box outside of a restaurant without someone reminding me of its existence.
Its like I have some sort of mental block about remembering my to go box. I think my body conspires against me and secretes a amnesiatic (I don't know if it is a word or not, but it is now...) substance into my brain at the moment of my getting up from the table so that I forget it.
A typical ending to a meal at a restaurant ends with my having this type of mental process: (Nathan): "oh that was a good meal, I couldn't finish it though" (note no mention of Nathan's extra food)
(Nathan): "oh I see my friends saved their food, that is really good, I hate to see food go to waste, especially when children are starving in Africa" (note Nathan still hasn't acknowledged the existence of his own to go box)
(Nathan thinking to himself): "I need to remember to get the door for the girls, and I mustn't forget to grab a peppermint on the way outside." (things are getting critical here for Nathan's to go box and he still hasn't thought of it) All these things lead to the inevitable outburst of "dang it! I forgot my food again!"
So yeah, I blame my forgetfulness on the "amnesiatic fluid"
So I will set my Penne' (pun intended) to proverbial paper and tell the sad tale of my Italian restaurant experience.
My friends and I went out to Carinos after church for some Italian food. I love Italian food, (I'm mostly Italian) and now in these days of RICO laws and chain Italian restaurants we don't have to worry so much about being the innocent victim in a mob hit or anything!
But anyway, we sit down at the table after saying hello to all the people we knew who just happened to be in there as well, (which is weird because we all drove an hour to get here...) and we order our food.
Well, it took forever for our food to arrive due to the antics of the most inept waiter the world has ever seen. I kid you not, this guy was awful. We had no silver ware for 30 minutes, as well as no bread for awhile. But the supremely hilarious moment came when he poured tea in my coke without asking what I was drinking...
Finally our food arrived, but at this point I had already gorged myself on garlic bread, soup, and tea diluted Coke.
I ate about 3 bites of my entree' and decided to call it quits and save the rest for supper tonight. So I get my to go box and put my unfinished food in it.
So by the time the girls got back from the restroom, (why girls go in pairs I'll never know) and argued with the waiter who somehow became convinced that I was picking up the entire check, and checked to be sure he hadn't overcharged me, I had completely forgotten my uneaten meal lying on the table. Sigh...
I pulled out of the parking lot and then suddenly remembered my box sitting sadly on our table, but I didn't have the heart to go back and get it. My poor pasta was left behind.
The funny (and really annoying) thing is that I do this literally all the time. I don't know that I have ever taken my own to go box outside of a restaurant without someone reminding me of its existence.
Its like I have some sort of mental block about remembering my to go box. I think my body conspires against me and secretes a amnesiatic (I don't know if it is a word or not, but it is now...) substance into my brain at the moment of my getting up from the table so that I forget it.
A typical ending to a meal at a restaurant ends with my having this type of mental process: (Nathan): "oh that was a good meal, I couldn't finish it though" (note no mention of Nathan's extra food)
(Nathan): "oh I see my friends saved their food, that is really good, I hate to see food go to waste, especially when children are starving in Africa" (note Nathan still hasn't acknowledged the existence of his own to go box)
(Nathan thinking to himself): "I need to remember to get the door for the girls, and I mustn't forget to grab a peppermint on the way outside." (things are getting critical here for Nathan's to go box and he still hasn't thought of it) All these things lead to the inevitable outburst of "dang it! I forgot my food again!"
So yeah, I blame my forgetfulness on the "amnesiatic fluid"
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