The work day today ended like any other, for the most part. I had to pick up Thing 1 from her after school program, so I jumped in the car a little earlier than I had to and stopped at the liquor store. I picked up a bottle of W. H. Harrison Straight Bourbon Whiskey, which is my new favorite. Very smooth, and quite affordable.
I then went on to get the kid. RIGHT next to the place she goes is a smoke shop. I picked up a couple cigars. Partagas, the dark ones, in case you wanted to send me a box of them.
I had a little extra room on the credit card, so I told the lass she could pick the venue for dinner tonight, fearing she’d choose Friendly’s. She did. I said, “Hey, you know the 99 is a lot closer…” She agreed. Good lass.
The waiter came over, looking a bit like he’d been working the bar from the wrong side. He leaned over the edge of the table, a little droopy eyed, a little too friendly, the way some folks do when they’ve had a bit too much to drink. “Hey.” he said offhandedly.
Now… I like to drink on occasion, and frankly I am not bothered by someone else who does. Yeah, I know, he’s working, unprofessional, blahblahblah and he was clearly drunk… but it really didn’t bother me. All he’s gotta do is get the food to me. He was friendly, and nice, etc… Yeah, I’d be singing a different tune if he dropped something hot on us or what have you, but… He took our drink order, and went off…
That however, was the last we’d seen of him. My six year old was thirsty, saying things like “Ugh, C’mon, dude!” but the reality was that we sat there for maybe five minutes before a nice young lass came over and asked, “Did your waiter take your order yet?” He hadn’t, but I told her what we’d ordered for drinks. She said that the fellow who’d taken the drink order had gotten a party of eight, and was a little over burdened. She apologized, and I assured her it was fine.
She came back again, and said that she’d be taking over for him. He’d dropped a considerably large tray of food and drink, and would be going home for the day. Yikes, I thought. Still, I was in good spirits, enjoying my time with my first born.
Dinner came, I got the double BBQ turkey tips, which I highly recommend to anyone, even vegetarians, cause I get a kick out of doing things like that. They tried to give me potatoes in the form of mashed, which I do like, but I’m watching the intake… I asked what else they had, she suggested french fries… eventually, I got broccoli and carrots. When the dinner came they threw in a dinner biscuit, cause god forbid I go without some kind of complex carb, right? Don’t worry, we found a use for it.
The lass got mozzarella sticks, french fries, apple sauce and a side of pickles.
We had a great dinner, goofing around with the crayons, flicking bits of rolled up straw wrappers at one another, telling jokes… being kids.
The manager then paid us a visit, and apologized. I was actually surprised, because in no way was I put out or even peeved. He wanted to make sure everything was OK, and told me that dinner was on the house. He said the waiter had had a bad day, something with his mother and father, etc… and in the course of things we were neglected.
I told him I had no problems whatsoever, these things happen, not a big deal, etc… But graciously accepted a free meal. 🙂
As I had said, I had planned on using the credit card though, so was unable to tip our waitress. I told her I’d feel badly not tipping, but she said not to worry about it, and just get her next time I came in. I plan to. If you’d like, and if you’re in the area of the Ninety Nine restaurant in Taunton MA, ask for Nicole and give her a good tip.
We got home and rejoined the rest of the family, and I retreated to the back deck with a fold up chair, a cigar, and a glass of whiskey, turned on the Red Sox game on my cell phone and listened to innings three through five.
Very enjoyable evening. Here’s my view:
|Click for original
So as I thought there, thinking about how perfect an evening it was, my wife brought thing 2 out, (the 2 year old) who told me “Daday! I pooped! It’s dehskustin!”