You know when you go to a restaurant with a few people, and the server doesn't write down your order but rather just remembers it?
So that's an 8oz filet for you sir, medium rare, with onions and mushrooms, and a garden salad with the honey-mustard dressing on the side; a sweet and sour chicken with steamed veggies, except for onions, because you're allergic and some miso soup to start; the rock lobster tail with drawn butter and the sautéed vegetable medley for you madam, with the cheddar rolls with chipotle butter; and lastly the giant Caesar salad in the crispy edible bowl, no croutons, but with anchovies with a side of mussels in the garlic wine sauce, with extra bread. And can I get a plate of fries for the table? Can I refresh anyone's drinks?
You know when that happens? Well, I get stupidly nervous that our order will be wrong. But I'm not nervous for me. I'm not worried that my salad will show up with croutons but no anchovies, I'm nervous FOR THE SERVER. Like he or she will NEVER get over the stinging humiliation of messing up the type of salad dressing someone gets.
I think it's because I would be humiliated. Of course I would also write it down. And ask more detailed questions: "Sir, did you want that honey-mustard on the left or right side?"
Another thing that makes me a weirdo: I can't fight. I am incapable of fighting. Even if I've been wronged, I feel completely unjustified in fighting about it because I feel like the other person will just decide that I'm not worth the bother, which is a RIDICULOUS thing to worry about, but still. This makes it easy to disagree with strangers, but nearly impossible to do so with loved ones. Over the weekend the Man and I had a completely innocuous disagreement where he said something I didn't like, then I told him (because that's something I'm working on), then we talked some more, and I said something that he interpreted as a bit rude (was it rude? I don't know. Rude was not my intention, but I cannot possibly be objective) and I basically broke down because OF COURSE I am to blame. Let's just forget the whole thing! Except we can't because I'm crying! I am a joy to be around!
Luckily I bought us coffee and breakfast sandwiches so I think that makes up for it. Also that was the morning of the day I made Thanksgiving dinner. So at least we all ate well.
I need to learn to fight, ninja style. How can I transform the stealth and awesome moves of a ninja into verbal fighting skills? That is a million dollar idea right there. Can we look into that?
Anyway, here's a picture of the after effects of Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving. Note the smiles. The fact that they simply must recline. And, if you'll notice A, all the way to the right, her pants are undone. SUCCESS!