Would you believe Devoted Spouse and I went out to dinner again this evening? That’s twice in one week, for goodness sakes. Our reason for this latest outing had nothing to do with his not wanting to cook; it wasn’t even his idea.
In the later part of the afternoon I woke up from my Valium-induced hibernation and I was growling and snarling and knew I needed meat. Real meat; real carnivore-enjoying ecstasy-on-the-hoof type meat. Now, the problem with that desire is around New Year’s Day I made the decision that it would be healthier for me if I stopped eating red meat. I have been quite successful in this endeavor only giving in to a hamburger one and one half times since the first of January. These teeth haven’t sunk into a steak or any roast beef at all. Tonight I simply had to have a steak and there was no getting around it.
I was in such a hurry to get there I didn’t even put on the face spackle. I pulled my hair back with a headband and tossed on my designer Cleveland Browns sweatshirt over some baggy pants. Not one of my better looks. It was more important to pursue a steak than to look gorgeous. Devoted Spouse dutifully helped me into my sling from Hades and off we toddled to Longhorn Steak House. Mmmm-mmmmm. Beef, beef juices…yum.
It was worth the effort — even though I was wrapped up in the sling, and hobbling from the back spasms, the pain was worth the wait when that glorious piece of meat arrived at the table. I knew life couldn’t get any better. And then the unexpected happened…Sonja, our waitress, said to me, “Miss do you need anything else?” MISS, she called me MISS. Oh, sweet merciful heavens I knew I looked like death on a soda cracker, and yet I sat there and grinned like the Cheshire cat when she said that. And, she used that term repeatedly during the course of our meal. Devoted Spouse got a kick out of it too, and he (wisely) said nothing, just sat and smiled at me.
Can you guess who got a very, very good tip? Hmmmm…one smart cookie, that waitress.