I really class up the joint...

So Mister C and I went out to dinner at a very nice sushi restaurant with another couple (D and L) tonight. We were enjoying ourselves immensely, both for the good food and the great company. It was a great time, other than our waitress.

Our waitress seemed to be either slow witted or simply unfocused because she would wander off and forget to come back. For instance, we arrived at the restaurant first and got seated. The waitress asked us what we wanted to drink and if we wanted an appetizer and we said we thought so but we hadn't looked at the menu yet so she said she would right back and then wandered off. Our friends arrived about five or ten minutes later and then had to wait another five minutes for the waitress to wander back and take their drink order. When she brought their drinks she asked about the appetizers and our friends said yes, but they hadn't looked at the menu yet. Our waitress said she'd be back and then wandered off. She eventually returned and got our appetizer order and then, taking into account her track record, we decided to go ahead and just order our entrees at the same time.

L asked a few questions about some entree or another and then, since we had ordered two large appetizers, decided to go with a seared tuna appetizer as her meal. She was very clear that she was having this for her meal, not the appetizer.

So of course, the first thing the waitress brought back was the tuna. L looked at it and decided it couldn't be what she ordered because first of all, it was being served before the other appetizers and secondly, because it wasn't seared at all. It was cold. L decided she was okay with it being raw as she prefers it that way anyway, but she didn't want to eat it before our meals arrived so she set it aside. Eventually the other appetizers and the rest of our meals arrived and we all dug in. Our waitress did manage to refill drinks once but otherwise was nowhere to be seen.

About two thirds of the way through dinner though, I felt something weird when I tried to move my feet under my chair. My foot seemed to be stuck on something and I couldn't untangle it. It turns out that my right shoe had decided that this was the perfect time to give up the ghost and die. The sole had completely separated from the rest of the shoe. Now, I don't feel too badly about their quality because I've had these particular shoes for at least fifteen years. But timing wise, it kind of sucked. We were sitting smack dab in the middle of the restaurant, surrounded by tons of people. So, I kept the shoe on for a little longer while debating what I should do. I seriously considered asking our waitress if she could bring me some black electrical tape or duct tape from the kitchen. But she had already proved to be less than a stellar communicator and I just didn't see her being able to understand my request and help me out without a big production that would draw even more attention to my predicament. I finally decided to wait until the end of the meal and then go ahead and ask her if she could bring me a bag, figuring that was a pretty simple request. My plan was straightforward, ask for a bag, remove shoes to said bag, casually walk out of the restaurant. So I ask for a bag.

And she says "A box?"
"No," I say, "a bag."
"A box? How many boxes do you need?"
"I just need a bag."
D says he would like a box. This seems to make our waitress happy. And then she points at my plate and says "A box?"
"Sure." I say. At this point I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to get a pair of four inch heels in a to-go box but I'm done trying to request something that is obviously so difficult.

The waitress wanders off and comes back with two boxes and a bag. I assume you can only have a bag if you get a box. Whatever, I have my bag. But now, she's handing me a box as well. I don't really want to take my fried rice home with me but I figure I should probably just go ahead and box it up so I don't cause anymore problems.

First I try to shovel up the perfect circle of rice with my fork to put it in the box but it starts breaking apart as soon as I do. So I lift up my plate with the intention of scraping it into the box, only nothing ever works that easily with me. No, the huge plate is ungainly and evidently the rice is extremely slipper because it starts a slow slide toward the edge of the plate. Unfortunately for me, the edge of the plate isn't over the box, it's hovering over my lap. So, yeah. About a cup of greasy fried rice falls into my lap before I can get the plate over the stupid box that I never wanted in the first place.

So there I am with a lap full of rice, my unwanted box full of more rice and nothing but a cloth napkin to clean it up with. I don't want to make a huge mess of my napkin so I start pulling the rice off my lap by hand and putting it on the plate. Only now, the waitress who couldn't remember where we were for the majority of the evening has suddenly decided she has to bus our table RIGHT NOW! So before I can get more than one handful of rice onto my plate she whips it off the table. So I try for Mister C's plate but that is also whipped off the table. So the third bit goes on to L's plate before that gets removed. I never had a chance at D's plate so I gave up and started putting the rice into my napkin. It took a while but I finally got every last grain of rice off my lap (and chair, and purse) and into the napkin. I'm sure they were thrilled when they picked that up.

Which now leads to what to do about my shoes. I had my bag so I casually reached under the table and removed my shoes and dropped them into the bag. When everyone else stood up, so did I. I had my purse and bag of shoes in one hand and my unwanted box of greasy rice in the other. And I walked out like it was totally normal to be in an upscale restaurant with a greasy lap and barefooted. Because that's just how I do things.

Of course the best part is that after we walked out of the restaurant I looked for the nearest garbage can to get rid of my shoes and only after I had dropped them in did I realize that for anyone sitting inside the place it looked like I had just thrown out my leftovers as soon as I left the restaurant.

I don't think Mister C is going to take me back there any time soon.