Please Don’t Spit in Our Food

Rhonda & I were looking forward to having lunch with old friends. Meeting at a popular restaurant area we picked one that looked suitable mainly because of its view overlooking the water, people passing by and reasonably priced menu.

Going straight to a table that looked good for us we then proceeded to rearrange our seating for the four of us.

After the hard work was done and we settled in to enjoy a fun lunch together the waitress arrived with smoke coming out of her ears.


My sharp intuition told me something was wrong.

She categorically stated that it was not policy for the patrons to move the tables around as everything was in place for a purpose.

Nearly pushing us out of our seats so she could put things back exactly as they were before reorganizing to suit our small party.

She was already helping us to decide that perhaps we have wandered in the wrong restaurant as the next door was probably more suitable for people like us.

She as good as told us if we wanted to stay we better behave ourselves.

As she left the menus with us and said she would be back. We felt like we were in kindergarten and were made to stand in the corner after doing something naughty.

Realizing we did find our way into the wrong place we looked at the menu and realized it was a seafood restaurant that none of us really desired for lunch.

Upon further investigation the price list showed us that bankruptcy was apparent after paying the bill and our life of luxury and leisure was over as we would have to work 3 jobs to pay off our debt that would have sent a small country into financial ruin and anarchy not to speak of civil war.

Our waitress returned before we had time to discuss the matter and she didn’t take a step backward in showing us that we had probably made the wrong decision by staying.”

All I could think of at this precise moment was; ‘please don’t spit in our food’.


Then it happened. Time stopped, all were frozen in place and there was only me and the waitress. Without a word spoken our eyes met and a telepathic conversation ensued.

me – sorry. We didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers

waitress – I have no feathers. Are you calling me a bird?

me – uh no, it’s just a figure of speech.

waitress – what do you want?

me – to make things right, you  see….

Waitress – let’s cut to the chase!!  What can you do for me?

me – huh?

waitress – you look like a fairly intelligent human being, think!!!

me – ohhhhh! I see you want a tip.

Waitress – no I want a BIG tip!!!!

me – got it, consider it done but you have to do your part and play nice.

waitress – deal.

me – hug?

waitress – don’t push it old-timer!!!!!

When time resumed I asked her if she could give us a few minutes to decide what we wanted. Zero to 60 took on a whole new meaning as she turned and burned rubber out of there.

Before I had time to think I blurted out to Rhonda and friends; ‘I’ll make it right’. I had to say something to get the blood flowing back into our hearts before someone had cardiac arrest.

I took a large potential tip out of my wallet and put it in my top pocket to remind me of my part of the deal no matter how things worked out.

Our waitress did play her part. Every time she came to our table we asked her questions about herself and took interest in her. She warmed up slowly but surely and by the time we had finished our now wonderful meal she was bubbling with smiles as broad as the Grand Canyon.

We took interest in our once grumpy waitress and pulled her into our world by wanting to know about hers. We got to know her and actually began to like her.

She turned out to be a nice warm young girl with a smile that could melt the iceberg that sank the titanic.

Not only did she give us excellent service she made sure that our meal was…. you know, free of external materials.

Keeping my part of the bargain I followed her out to pay the cheque and stopped her. I shook her hand with a large tip in place which she knew exactly what to do with. Stuffing her pocket with the promised gift she smiled again and told me….. (Sorry but not everything can be revealed, you see it was our telepathic secret).

We now left the restaurant full, happy and pleased that we made someone cheerful and turned a potential disaster into an experience worth writing about.

You’ll be happy to know that our lunch didn’t break the bank but we are considering busking to recharge our credit card.

I expect to pass through life but once. If therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again.” William Penn

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