I used to never look forward to going to restaurants. Beyond the fact that I was an extremely frugal individual, I had this….problem. I was too unlucky to be a blissful foodie.
There was always something wrong with my dining experiences. Not your well known and feared “ew, your cook shaved his beard into my lukewarm soup” kind of problem but much much smaller ones that I only started noticing after people I dined with would bring it to my attention.
For instance: Lets say all I wanted in my belly; in my life; was a waffle. I would seek out a diner with a waffle option. I wouldn’t even look at the menu and as the waiter comes to ask “are you ready to or-” I would quietly (yet joyously) say with my fists clenched and excitingly beginning to thrust into the air “yes!” as if I was 90 year old woman calling out “BINGO”.
At this point, chances are, more often than not, one of the three things will happen:
- My waffle would come piled with fruits on top, despite the fact that this was NOT in the description. This fruit party almost always includes my one and only eatable arch enemy. The banana. At which point, if I were to take it back to have a banana-free waffle, I would get my waffle back cold, with a soggy caved in center that is now dyed red and blue from the fruits that once occupied the space. I’ve known enough people in the service industry to know that to take this waffle back for a SECOND time is like asking for a side of maple syrup and a wad of phlegm
- I get brought a stack of pancakes with an insincere “sorry” on behalf of a broken waffle iron.
- My meal, the simplest one at the table, will curiously and unsettlingly take the longest to make it to me. By the time it gets sent out, everyone else is nearly done eating. (I dare you to find someone that eats at a slower pace than I do.)
Now, I am fully aware that this is not such a big deal and you feel like you’ve wasted far too much time just reading about my white girl problems but this happens all the time! Everything I’ve just listed has happened. And thats just waffles!! I’ve had things like this happen at almost every place I go with nearly every meal I have. For a foodie, it goes from a funny little bump in my day to full on Chinese Water Torture!
Along with the fact that I can’t even pull as much as a dime from a slot machine, the problems I have with eating out, are the clearest signs that I am just not one of those people who has luck. In a sense, it’s like a cloud over my head.
Another strange thing I seem to realize about myself: It seems that no matter where I fly to, I get off the plane and walk right into rain storm of some type. Its been happening this way for quite some time now and the only thing I can seem to associate it with is those cartoons where a rain cloud is just trailing a mopey persons head. In this case, its me and my umbrella hating, nappy haired, blonde, unlucky head!
My landing in Burbank the other night, was no different. It was cold and rainy. The plane landed late and I couldn’t find the person who was supposed to pick me up. I was sick with a lung and sinus infection and I’m sure flying at all was not the best idea.
Landing into the typically mildly weathered and dry Southern California, reminded me that things may not be going my way for a while.
Proven true during my first meal since my sickness has subsided and my appetite has come back with vengeance! I was told of a burger joint that was voted “the best” by some self important Los Angeles thing. I was drawn to it because their burgers could be served with lettuce instead of bread. You can’t fuck up this order because its one of those places where you simply mark off the options you’d like, as if it were the SATS of food.
You’re no longer just placing an order. Noooo, no. You’re now marking off the personaly correct answers and the inevitable reward of an A+, would be this burger that is made to your idea of perfection! Excited, I ordered this de-breaded burger and waited patiently, with a friend. When our orders came, I was given a cheese burger between to halves of a massive bun. No lettuce.
I mentioned something to my server along the lines of “whahappen to lettuce..bread…waaah” To respond, my meal was taken from me, DEconstructed to stuff shredded lettuce between the once melted cheese and bun. REconstructed from that and sent back to my table looking like it had just walked out of the room from a good game of bumpin’ uglies. I stared at the room temperature burger, looked up at my friend who was defending me out loud for the misreading of my order, sighed and just ate the damn thing while plucking most of the bun away as I went. ‘Ottering’ my burger, some would say. It was pretty damn good.
My birthday is coming up in May. I’ll be 26. I feel like every year of my 20′s, I’ve not learned something new as much as I’ve let go of the stubbornness of something I’ve already known but have no power to change. (Funnily enough, I don’t know how to say that without sounding stubborn)
This year I think learning that I will just never have the kind of luck that I hope for in life and that I’m going to have to work far more than I ever have before, is what I’m coming to not only except but embrace.
So for my birthday, I’m expecting nothing less than a banana creme pie presented to me at my rained out pool party.
Bring it, misfortune.