Restauranting
I had just been seated at one of my favorite lumberjack-themed eateries, when the waitress approached the table with a most forward question: "Can I start you out with something to drink?"
Now, you may have been in this situation before and thought nothing of it. But if a person is going into this establishment cold, with no prior knowledge of entrees or options, and not the faintest idea of what they might want to order, the preliminary beverage selection may eliminate as much as two-thirds of the menu right off the bat. My reply to the initial inquiry: "Orange juice."
Snap. Just like that, the majority of the items on the menu have been rendered un-orderable. A bacon cheeseburger with a glass of orange juice? Are you daft? That combo could substitute for ipecac.
So, as of now, mine eyes have already been strictly relegated to the breakfast page. I suppose I could have simply told her that water would be suitable for the time being, but this didn't enter into my thoughts until after the OJ had already been delivered. Shit. And I kind of had a hankering for the meatloaf dinner. And don't even consider the option of sending the orange juice back, because that Florida Navel didn't have its innards liquefied for you to change your mind.
The preliminary beverage request paints you into a corner. A corner filled with liquid that you don't necessarily want to commit to. A wicked corner of hastily chosen, entree-specific beverages, of which I no longer want any part.
posted by Arthur Croft Yates @ 9:46 PM
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