Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Through the Courtesy of Strange Four Feet

When we last convened, Farmer H, Hillbilly Mom, and The Pony were feasting on all-you-can-eat catfish and fixin's for a belated 25th anniversary dinner. Of course that's not the end of the story.

At first Mrs. HM was a bit cranky. I know. So uncharacteristic of her. But the restaurant was cold. And, as has been established, Mrs. HM had no coat, what with both of her winter outer garments being LOCKED UP as tight as her best old ex teaching buddy Mabel's scissors, rulers, and giant yellow glue sticks in a brown metal storage locker, in the back of her T-Hoe.

To subtract degrees from her chill, the red-and-white-checked plastic tablecloth was wet from the clean plate, which must have just been scrubbed with sand down in the spring-fed creek. So Mrs. HM's forearms cooled from evaporation. Guess that'll learn her to keep her elbows off the table!

The food was delectable. The Pony loaded up on fat fries, shrimp, and hush puppies with honey butter. Farmer H was partial to the shrimp and catfish and baked beans, and the fattest fries that Mrs. HM had pegged for her own. Mrs. HM had a heapin' helpin' of slaw, then made it her mission to consume as much chicken breast pieces dipped in special sauce as was humanly possible, what with also scarfing down mass quantities of catfish swiped through tartar sauce. Mmmm!

But that's not the best part! The best part was when the waiter left the bill. Farmer H took an exceptional amount of time inspecting it. I know he was trying to figure the tip. I don't know why he doesn't just leave two dollars no matter how much the meal costs. That's my mom's tactic. So I asked him what the problem was, and he handed me the bill.

Heh, heh. Funny how I don't remember us having two all-you-can-eats, plus a lemonade and a sweet tea. THAT'S BECAUSE WE DIDN'T! We had the bill of the people at a table across from us. I told Farmer H to inform the waiter. Which he did. No good can come from ripping off the catfish people.

Yeah. We could have saved $15 bucks. But we didn't.

I hope the other customers checked their bill before paying.

3 comments:

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Even Steven will reward you soon. I want some fish now .....

Sioux said...

I hope when Farmer H--in other establishments--tips only $2, he is completely finished with his meal--no drink refills, no dessert that has not been delivered, etc. Otherwise, the server might get revenge in some way...

We (former) servers have our ways...

Hillbilly Mom said...

Kathy,
Don't we all? They have the best catfish ever. No batter. Cornmeal. Thick and moist tender catfish. Mmmm...

*****
Sioux,
Here's when I reward a server: you don't notice that you have a server. They notice when refills are needed, and come right back with your extra tartar sauce, and don't foist the bill on you until it's clear that all are finished. They are polite, but don't try to be your best friend. AND they don't run a Bissell under your feet while you're eating.