Wednesday, November 27, 2019

Mrs. HM Will NOT Be Shamed!

Saturday, Farmer H and I went to the casino and ate at the Burger Brothers inside. The restaurant was quite messy. Like nobody had cleaned up after the lunch rush, although it was now 4:00. The trash cans were overflowing, and the napkin dispenser on the wall was empty. They used to have dispensers on each table, but I guess that was too much trouble. Or too convenient for the customers!

Each table has a metal circular holder for mustard, ketchup, salt, pepper. Our ketchup was almost empty. I asked Farmer H, who was facing the rest of the room, while I sat with a view of the playing floor through the glass, to go trade it with the ketchup from another table.

"I can't, HM. There are people sitting at every table."

Fair enough. That would probably be frowned upon. I squeezed out just enough ketchup for my fries. Good thing Farmer H didn't want any.

As I was getting ready to bite my burger, I asked Farmer H to pass the salt. I like it on the burger, it brings out the flavor. I don't salt the fries. Or pepper them, either! I don't know who started that disgusting habit, but it ruins fries in case you want to offer them to someone else if you don't eat them all. Farmer H, Genius, and The Pony all put pepper on their fries! I guess maybe they're sending me a message...

Anyhoo...Farmer H held out a shaker.

"Here's the salt."

"That's not salt! That's PEPPER! You can tell by the brown container."

Sweet Gummi Mary! How has Farmer H lived this long, being so...um...uninformed!

"That's the only shaker here."

Farmer H looked at the table next to us. They'd already been seated when we arrived.

"Excuse me. Ma'am? Could we please borrow your salt? We don't have any."

"Sure. WE don't USE salt!"

Of course they didn't. Even though it was sitting on the table between her and a man, and not in the metal holder. Don't get me started! Oops! Too late! I'm already rolling. She said it in that haughty manner of city people, who know what's best for everyone, what with being superior, never watching TV, not even PBS, probably not even having one in their house. We probably could have gotten their ketchup, too, which they would pronounce CATSUP, which they would also never use, probably having smuggled in their very own GREY POUPON in a hammered-copper container, sheathed in a bamboo shoulder holster, with a special pocket for dry ice to keep it cool.

"Oh, I don't use it either, but SHE does!"

Smugly said the diabetic, who three hours later I would catch eating two pieces of cheesecake with a side of individual ice cream cup.

I refuse to be salt-shamed by the likes of a toilet-seat-pooping sugar-eater!

4 comments:

River said...

Oooh! the smugness of some people! They could have just said, "sure, we don't need it". I'm sure they have their own faults and shouldn't be all 'holier than thou' so just imagine them going home and not washing their hands or never cleaning the kitchen or something. I don't salt bought fast food burgers, but if I make them at home I salt them and add tomato sauce before eating.

Hillbilly Mom said...

River,
I KNOW! They're probably too good to eat AUCTION COOKIES!

I wouldn't really call this one a FAST FOOD burger. It takes them so long to cook it!

Sioux Roslawski said...

I hate smug people... especially around the holidays. Then they get extra smug and snotty.

I almost got ran over in Target yesterday. A young woman was wheeling her car around like a bat out of he(( while on her phone... she rounded the corner and almost mowed me down, and when I tsked tsked once I was safely out of her way, she said snottily, "Happy Thanksgiving."

"To you as well," I responded, over my shoulder.

She probably doesn't even eat french fries, let alone salt.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
Oh my gosh! I heard another one this morning at the La Quinta breakfast buffet! Her kids were CHAMPION swimmers, told to get serious and train for the Olympics. Her son was a nationally ranked wrestler. She went into the motel room of her parents, and her dad dared to be sitting on the UNMADE BED watching TV. She heard them getting up AT LEAST TWICE during the night. Heh, heh. I guess she would prefer they wet the bed, so she could complain even more.