Things you see that blow your mind: The restaurant edition

Went to some human rights event here last week, and it included lunch.

Saturday, at each of the 10 places around the table, there was, for some reason, a little plate, as well as a knife, fork and spoon. Can't say I've seen that here before.

When the garcon put the first dish in front of us, everyone just dug into it - an entire sheep. Headless, which was fortunate for me because I was on that end.

Everyone but me simply reached and tore it off with their hands.

It never occured to me to use a fork, but I did sit there and wondered when they'd bring us bread so I could eat like a civilized person.

I've gotten over a lot of phobias I used to have. What's a little bacteria among friends? A communal water glass, my hostess ripping the meat apart with her hands before tossing it to my section of the dish. Cats attacking the chicken carcass soaking in water, and eating it with my host family anyway. Bugs in the macaroni and rice; ants in the potatoes.

I really hope my first job interview post-Peace Corps isn't over lunch.

 

It pretty much makes me ralph when I see some slob in a restaurant shove his dirty knife into a bottle of ketchup to loosen it up, and then, across the room, I see the waitstaff pouring the contents of one half-empty bottle into another. Unless it's a foil packet or it's one of those Heinz squeeze bottles, I eat sans ketchup in restaurants.

 

You should have told her at her table that you sneezed all over the loaf, complete with sinus-fueled projectiles.

 

Ruby Tuesday is the greatest restaurant in the world and they have a salad bar.

Take it back.

 

Sorry about that. But in re-reading that I'm reminded of a story from about 10-15 years ago at the newspaper. It's around the holidays and we had one of those popcorn tins out. A guy in the newsroom goes takes his hand from scratching himself inside the back of his pants right into the popcorn tin. Nobody else ate from it the rest of the night.

 

*Projectile vomiting* ...

 

The worst thing that blew my mind happened when I was waitressing and involved a Jewish couple being so dissatisfied with their salads that I brought them (which was lettuce, our homemade vinaigrette dressing that is fucking out of this world and a few bacon bits) that they made me redo the salads four or five times. First, they couldn't have bacon bits, because they're kosher, even though I told them they were imitation. Then they wanted the dressing on the side. Then the wife wanted Ranch dressing. Then she said, "no, French." And by this time, I'm about to rip my hair from my head.

At the end of the day, they didn't leave me a tip. I volunteered to take the table since they showed up 15 minutes before closing time and I was saving up to buy a computer and ended up staying more than 30 minutes past closing time, when it was just me and the owners, basically, left, and I didn't get anything out of it. I was so pissed that I felt I needed a treat and took a big slice of coconut cream pie home to eat. (Yeah, best perks of that job - homemade pie.)

 

My general policy is to avoid salad bars but if I find myself at one will grab my own bread.
How do you know of the fork or tongs were not dropped on the floor by a previous customer.

I am becoming more and more freaked out at using lids from self service soda fountains at fast food joints. I've watched too many people touch the lids or drop them on floor and put back in rack.

 

And that doesn't even take into account some of the characters who wash the dishes in most restaurants.

 

Seriously. That's what your immune system is for.

 

The fork had more germs on it than the bread inside does, I'm betting.

Salad bars are disgusting, man.