A few weekends ago Adam and I decided to go out to eat. Not a mind-blowing revelation I know. Not one of you is sitting out there thinking to yourself right now, "A married couple going out to eat? SO SCANDOULOUS! " Us going out to eat is only notable because on this particular day I decided I was so sick and tired of going to the same old places and wanted to try someplace new. But trying out a new restaurant can be a frustrating and difficult endeavor when your husband only eats foods from his five food groups: Burgers, Chicken Fingers, Pizza, French Fries, and Corn. At least he likes one vegetable! So whenever I want to go somewhere new, I typically scour the online menu to double check their burger and chicken finger selections.
I decided I wanted to check out a restaurant called The Elephant Bar. The Elephant Bar is, you guessed it, safari themed. They have animal statues and prints everywhere; it is actually a pretty, cool decorated place. Adam and I settled in, and I ordered a glass of water to drink. I have completely given up soda since I started my diet. Especially at restaurants. But before you start thinking I'm all dedicated and determined you should know I haven't given up soda because I've reached some dieting moral high ground. Nope. I have given it up because soda is empty calories that can be better allotted elsewhere, like for dessert!
So the water came and I took a sip of the water. Everything seemed fine at first, but then I noticed it had a really weird after taste. I couldn't figure out what it was though. Finally, it dawned on me. The water tasted like it had been mixed with dirt! But why? Did they do it on purpose? Was this part of the Safari experience? That is not the Safari experience I signed up for.
Adam saw me cringing and asked me what was wrong. So I forced him to drink it because my discomfort should also be his discomfort. He didn't taste a thing though, and you could have blown me over with a feather when he said that. It was so strong when I tasted it. In fact, he thought I was imaging it, like I had just made it up on my mind, or I was paranoid. I may be a nervous Nancy and sometimes I overreact but I didn't dream up the dirt water!
Adam figured it was just this glass of water, so he thought I should ask for a new one. Which seems like the totally logical thing to do. But I am not logical, and I have that social anxiety thing going for me, so I never complain at restaurants. I realize that requesting new water isn't exactly a complaint, but in my mind it sounded like it. I didn't want to tell my waitress about the dirt water because she would apologize, bring me a new glass, and then question me about the state of my water all evening. Not too mention that sometimes the manager comes out to apologize in these situations. TOO MUCH PRESSURE. I may whine on my blog and to my husband, but in public I'm all sunshine and lollipops
Yeah it is 100% neurotic I know, but that's just me. So I took a deep breathe, slammed the water back like a tequila shot, waited for a new glass, and prayed that my next water wouldn't taste like dirt. The second glass was better but it was still rather "earthy." But I just let it go because it was drinkable. Adam spent a good amount of time trying to convince me it would be ok to say something to the waitress about the water. But my neurosis does not allow me to accept his point of view.
Flash forward a few weekends later when a few people are hanging at my house practicing our counseling skills for the class from Hades. They felt just as scared and just as beat up as I did by the class. Which made me feel better, because my misery loves their company. After we were done practicing, we decided to all go out to eat together. But we experienced the age old problem of nobody wanting to make a decision about where to go to eat. Argh. When this happens, I'm always thinking on the inside, "Someone grow some kahonas and make a choice already! Just don't make me pick, because I hate making decisions!" I'm not hypocritical at all. So I just started throwing out some ideas for places to eat, one of them being the Elephant Bar.
When I said the Elephant Bar, one of my friends whipped around and said, "My kids hate the Elephant Bar! Every time I mention it they complain because they think the water tastes like dirt!" My eyes got wide, and I started laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. It felt like I had validation! Adam could take his "water paranoia" theory and shove it where the sun ain't shining. He was so shocked to hear her say it too! Then I got to do my, "I was right, You were wrong" dance. Which is the best dance of all time!
Needless to say we didn't go to the Elephant Bar that night. And if you are wondering if I passed my class, wonder no more because I did. Even though it took them FOREVER to post our grades. They posted the scores two whole days after the day I was supposed to find out! So I spent the whole weekend checking my grades every five minutes, and having mini panic attacks every time I clicked the grade book!
You know how I celebrated? By giving Sarah a bath at 11 at night because someone rolled in something nasty on her walk, and someone who will not be mentioned didn't stop her. So when Sarah walked in the door, I was immediately assaulted by her smell. But the person who will still not be mentioned suggested we wait to bathe her till the next day because they were tired. I told that person that unless they could go out and find the bubble John Travolta used in The Boy in The Plastic Bubble movie for her to be placed in overnight, we were bathing her right then. Oh and maybe while you are at the plastic bubble store you could buy us two plastic bubbles because they look like they would pretty fun to play in.