2 love handles, 1 over opinionated personality, and a side of entitlement! Order Up! I watched the waitress pick up the ridiculous slab of mess that someone had the nerve of actually requesting. I watched with hawk-like eyes to see who she sat the order in front of! I wondered who could consume all that; it had to be for at least a family of four! She left the counter and headed down the aisle, trying to balance the other over indulgent orders, a pound of high school insecurities and a heaping of wild and crazy hair. At least someone ordered something appetizing and healthy as well; a side of confidence. She rounded the corner and headed my way. I looked around to see which of my restaurant cohorts had daringly took on this challenge. She started to slow as she got closer to my table so I became more intrigued! Was it the rich couple in front of me? They could afford such a feast. Or maybe it was the overly successful business man to my right who seemed like he could take on the world. I second guessed the dumpy straight edge teenager behind me because clearly he couldn’t afford the order. She came to a halt, turned left, and said “this is all yours”!
What!? Clearly she was mistaken! I spoke loudly so the other diners would know that I was attesting such an insult. “Excuse me Miss, but you have been mistaken. This is NOT my order. I clearly ordered 1 slim figure, a perfect family, a side of accolades and success, and a cup of ease”. She looked puzzle, apologized, and vowed to get it right the next time. The businessman to my right smirked and said “I thought that was a little much for you to handle on your own”. I watched the waitress argue with the chef about my order, she walked back to the order screen glanced down in confusion, and then went back to collect what she thought to be acceptable.
I sat calmly and went back to people watching. I couldn’t believe I got reservations at the hottest restaurant in town: Life! People tried for ages to get a seat, but it was really only offered to a chosen few. Another order was called out: A slab of unsuccessful relationships, a few lost friendships, a trickle of embarrassing moments, and a cup of grace. Wow, this order was worse than before! I mean the grace clearly was the best thing on the plate, but that slab of relationships smelled horrible! She rounded that same corner, stood right in front of me and plopped the tray down on my table. She didn’t even ask this time if it was mine! Before I could oppose she was off delivering an order that sounded more appetizing than my trough.
I was outraged! I didn’t wait this long to get into Life to get the scraps no one wanted. I stood up in the middle of the aisle and shouted “THIS IS NOT MY ORDER”! The music stopped, the room got quiet, and all eyes were on me. The straight edge kid behind me started a slow hand clap, but was embarrassingly not joined by the rest of the crowd. The manager scampered over and asked me to please express my dissatisfaction with my plate. I let Him know that this was nothing like the reviews in the magazine. I heard Life was all about having fun, enjoying your time, and relaxing.
I pointed to my neighbor’s meal of wealth, the couple’s cups of fame, and even the teenager behind me had a large helping of time. The manager asked me to look closer at my plate and agreed it may not have been his cooks most aesthetically pleasing platter, but asked me to consider the cup of grace, the topping of love, and the overwhelming sprinkles of life changing moments. He reminded me that the couple in front of me had a dessert of infidelity, the businessman had a cocktail of lonely nights, and the teenager didn’t need anything extra; he had it bad enough being a teenager. He advised me to take a bite before complaining and see if it tasted better than it looked.
To my surprise the slab of bad relationships left a “finding my husband” after taste, the lost friendships were hard to swallow at times, but the cup of grace surely helped. The embarrassing moments actually made me smile a bit and wasn’t as bad as I thought. I motioned for the waitress and asked her to return the first order sent to me. Though the love handles, opinionated personality, and entitlement seemed a tad scary, I clearly wouldn’t be able to leave without trying the confidence. Before leaving Life I vowed to return with my son or daughter and help them navigate the large menu placed before them.
Always with love,