Tuesday, June 22, 2004


(Don't know when this was written, for what purpose it was intended, or indeed why I'm retyping it here. Enjoy.)

Scene: restaurant. X & Y in mid-conversation; food has just been served.

X: ...Oh, for crying out loud... Waitress! Waitress!

W: Is everything okay?

X wordlessly gestures towards plate.

W looks, shakes her head - she has no idea what he's gesturing about.

X raises his eyebrows emphatically, gestures again.

W: I'm afraid I don't...

X: Look at my plate. You remember my order, don't you?

W: Yes, of course. T-bone steak, medium well, garlic mashed, zucchini circles, medium coke, light ice, hold the parsley. The Saturday special.

X: Mm-hmm. Now look at my plate.

W (scrutinizing it for a second): Is it dirty, or...?

X: No, not the actual plate! What's wrong with the order?

W: I don't... I have other tables, you know.

X: The entree. What's the matter with the entree?

W: It's cooked the way you like it, isn't it?

X: Jesus god, yes! You don't see what the problem is? You really don't see it?

W: No, I'm afraid I don't.

X: The bone is not shaped like a T.


W: Um, what?

X: It's a T-bone steak, right? That's what was listed on the menu, that's what I ordered - but that's not what I got.

W: So... the bone is the wrong shape?

X: Goddamn it, yes! That doesn't look the slightest bit like a T, does it? I mean, this is a decent restaurant most of the time - you earned those two stars honestly - but this, this is no good.

W (slowly, with mounting disbelief): Because the bone isn't shaped like a T.

X: Grrr! Yes! I come in here, I order a T-bone, I want a T-bone! I didn't see an "L-bone" listed on the menu! I'm a strong believer in truth in advertising and I know when I've been scammed. I order a T-bone, and that's the letter of the friggin' alphabet I want my bone to be shaped like! You might be able to pass off an "L-bone" or an "S-bone" to the rubes, but I'm local, baby! Lived here all my life! And in spite of the poor educational system in this country, I can read quite fluently. And I'm not reading "T-bone" right here!

Y: You know, from where I'm sitting, it almost looks like a cursive "T." You know, a little more flowing...

X: A cursive T? What am I, French? I don't want any pretentious calligraphy on my goddamned plate! I want a decent, angular, all-American T. Now take this back and bring me what I ordered! Now!

W (sarcastically, even for a waitress): Yes, sir!

X (calling after her): And make sure it's a capital T! I don't want any lowercase bones at these prices!

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