Nothing Extra

Old people are just in a category all their own.  You never know what they're going to say or do, if they'll be grouchy or friendly, or if they'll even be able to hear you.  This table happened to be old, and they were definitely not the friendly kind.

When I take their order, the lady decides on a filet (excellent choice, by the way).  She gets a salad and would also like a baked potato.

"Would you like cheese, butter, sour cream, bacon, and chives on that?" I ask, just as I ask anyone who wants a baked potato.

She looks at me and answers in that wonderful tone of voice that expresses annoyance.

"Well I don't need anything extra.  Just give me what it comes with."

"Well, it's your choice of toppings ma'am.  It doesn't cost any extra."

"Just give me what it normally comes with."

Hmmm...I learned from another table that "regular" means butter, sour cream, and chives, but I doubt that will help me in this situation.  No matter what I ask, I know that we're not really going to get anywhere.  So I write down an "E" because I've decided that she's getting everything on her baked potato.  Sometimes you just have to do it for them.

Now it's his turn.  I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.

He orders his sides first, which always throws off my groove a little bit.  He gets mashed potatoes and vegetables.  Then he pauses, so I'm not quite sure if he's going to get an entree or if he's going to share with his wife.

"Would you like a steak tonight sir?"

"I want the 11oz Ribeye," he says.  He's the type of person I dread taking an order from.  He doesn't hear very well and I don't have a loud voice anyway.  So I try to speak up, but it doesn't get me very far.

"Well sir, I have an 11oz Sirloin or I have a 10oz Ribeye.  Which would you like?"

"I want the 11oz Ribeye," he repeats.  Awesome.  I try not to audibly sigh.

"Okay sir, a Ribeye it is.  Is there anything else I can get going for you folks today?"

The lady is still looking at the menu.  "I don't see an 11oz Ribeye on your menu," she says, still being as peachy as ever.  "You only have a 10oz or a 14oz Ribeye."

Yes, I know.  I am well aware of the sizes of steaks we have.  But I just nod.

"I'll go get this going for you then.  Would you like me to take those menus out of your way?"  And I get away from the table just as fast as I can, hoping no one is watching, because the urge to roll my eyes has suddenly become unbearable.

But the best part of this story comes when their meals hit the table.  The lady that wanted nothing extra, just what comes on the potato, now needs an extra side of butter.

Of course she does.