Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Never let them know you're hungry.

My parents and I attempted to go out to eat Monday night.

After a second failed attempt and a wasted ten mile drive we determined we’d be better off to just go to the Pizza Hut in Meade. Pizza tends to take a while and we were seriously hungry so we thought we should call and order, but my dad didn’t bring his phone with him and we didn’t have the number.

Like you don’t have a pizza delivery place in your phone? He’s working with limited options.

My mom made up a number; she tends to do that when she doesn’t quite know the phone number for something. It usually has several of the correct digits, but rarely all of them or in the correct order. The number was disconnected.

Frustrated, my dad called my sister to ask her to look up the number, but he got her voicemail. She called back after a bit (too late to make much of a difference in the wait time on our pizza so we didn’t even bother with the number).

After we got to Pizza Hut and sat down this sweet girl came over to take our order.

Dad: “Honey barbecue wings, not those nuclear bomb, burn your face off (pretty sure he’s referencing. buffalo) wings. I ordered honey barbecue at the one in Dodge City and got some flaming hot shit.”

We also ordered two pizzas and an individual pasta. We’re working on that countertop resurfacing project and we can’t really use the kitchen. Leftovers were essential.

Dad: “And bring those wings as soon as possible. We’re starving.”
After she leaves: “What do you suppose we’ll get?”

My dad has a tendency to order things and receive completely different food at restaurants or have his food just never show up. He has a bit of a complex about it.

After a freaking long time the wings finally showed up. They weren’t honey barbecue. Shocker. They were buffalo, no sauce, but buffalo. The bright orangeness gave it away. I bit into one to confirm. Yep, totally buffalo.

She took them back.

She came back with the same wings coated in honey barbecue sauce. Not exactly what we ordered, but pretty damn good. I highly recommend it.

Shortly after, one of the pizzas arrived. Not both or the other thing we ordered. Just one.

Dad: “You realize our other food isn’t coming.”

The waitress came back to assure us that the rest of our food would be there shortly.

Dad: “You know they forgot it, right? Otherwise it would have shown up with the first pizza.”

Me and Mom: "Yep.”
The second pizza arrived a little while later and the waitress tells my mom they just put her pasta in and it will be out as soon as possible.

For reals. Perhaps a complex is justified.

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