So, Valentine’s Day was a day of aborted attempts at stuff.
We went off in a quest to get a new cat and all I came away with was a very bad mood when this obnoxious volunteer at the PetSmart cat adoption outfit huffed that I “didn’t seem overly concerned” at having put the other cat down, and went so far as to ask, “Did you take it to a vet?” Not Your Average Blogger says this is because I used a terrible choice of words by saying we had to “get rid” of the cat rather than “put her down.” And I’ll concede that point. The part that killed me was after NYAB pointed out that I was impolitic, I felt compelled to go back around the corner and try to start over, but she was still very sniffy with me and wouldn’t answer any questions satisfactorily, apparently because I wasn’t rending my garments and sobbing. And the more I tried to figure out how to get her to answer me, the worse it got. It finally occurred to me that it was not that fat bint’s business to judge my reactions to things and I wasthisclose to popping off at her when NYAB finally took my arm and said, “I think we should go. I don’t like this woman and have no desire to do business with her, and we can find better rescue candidates somewhere else anyway.”
Then I yelled at him in the parking lot for not riding in to my rescue. and why didn’t he jump in and tell off that woman while I sat there flailing and floundering, and jeez, WTF? He laughed at me and told me that of all the people he’s ever met I’m the last person in need of rescuing, and besides, if he had done so, he would have come off as a jackass and I probably would have wound up embarrassed. I say, nice try. But it was sweet of him to frame it thus.
We have since found a couple possible adoptees on Craigslist that are Absolutely Free and seem to come from Very Nice People.
We were going to take in a movie, but atrocious behavior from the YP nixed that one.
I was going to do some housework, but was so wrung out after all that I took a 4-hour nap instead.
We were going to go to dinner at Outback as a Valentine’s family outing. But the nap and other issues led to us leaving the house at 6:20 and arriving at the restaurant at 6:50 – in time for an hour-and-40-minute wait. Noooooooope.
So, we skibbled down to the next eatery, which was IHOP.
Now, I have a spotted history with IHOP. They are like WalMart for me. They are either great or dreadful and there is no in between.
When I was in college, a friend and I used to do stupid pranks, and one time we went to an IHOP and tried to persuade the cashier to give us jobs as translators.
That exact same scenario popped up on a scene in Dharma and Greg about 10 years later. I like to assume my anecdote made the rounds and someone used it. Especially if the alternative is that everyone does that at some point and I am completely uncreative and lame.
The last IHOP we went to was in Florida a couple years ago. It was HORRIBLE. The waitress had to take our order 3 or 4 times and still got it wrong. We were there for an hour and a half before our food actually came. (And yes, we probably would have left, but the conversation was good enough to make the wait bearable.)
So I was dubious when we ventured into this one. But the waitress made eye contact, brought the correct drinks in record time, wrote down the orders, all very good. The food was …. well, I don’t think you can go so far as to call IHOP food “good,” but it was hot and what we ordered and absolutely a completely “exceeds expectations” rating.
The Young Prince was being a contrarian. He did not want breakfast for dinner, he deemed it wrong. This, despite having had a hamburger for breakfast. He requested another hamburger for dinner.
“YP, this is not the International House of Hamburgers,” NYAB instructed him.
Not five minutes after this conversation, a gaggle of rather daffy college students piled in to the table behind me. So there I am, half-listening as they place their orders, when I hear one girl say to the waitress,
“So, um, what is really good here to order? Like, what is the best thing on the menu?"
I have to work hard not to start laughing. NYAB is also suddenly taking an inordinate interest in his hash browns – a food he does not eat.
The waitress is silent for a moment and then suggests …. chicken. Yes. She did.
The girl agrees. The waitress leaves. We wait a few more seconds after that and then we both try to laugh quietly.
NYAB: “No, no, it’s too easy. I can’t pile on.”
Me: “There is no need to pile on. That’s a stand-alone right there.”
So we came home and ate ice cream.
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