The menu at the diner had been revised. New management had taken over. The ribs were gone. There were more appetizers and burgers offered, and lots of chicken dishes.
I looked at the pictures that were next to each selection, and everything looked very appealing. I took my time deciding. I figured once I saw what the waitress was serving to the other people in the room, I could order what really looked good.
The table next to me ordered burgers, fries and onion rings. I sipped a glass of wine, and waited for the order to come out. The burgers were served on a gigantic role, with lettuce, tomato and onions. I couldn’t really see the burger. Immediately, that old TV commercial came to mind: Where’s the Beef? And the fries were heaped on the plate. They appeared to be very white. And plump. Plump and white? Hmmm. Sounds like someone I know. I like my fries lean and mean. And the onion rings were all stuck together in a heap. I wondered if they were loaded with crazy glue. Comparing those dishes to the pictures, I knew those photos must have been taken somewhere else.
Then another table ordered chicken. Apricot chicken, chicken stir fry and chicken parm. Same thing. The chicken looked scrawny. The apricot was thrown on the plate, and the stir fry had lots of rice, but very little chicken. I looked for feathers, to see if the damn things had been plucked. The parm was a mess of melted cheese that looked like the cheese had come from a jar. Gee Whiz, Cheese Whiz.
I am in trouble, I thought. I wonder if the appetizers would be the way to go. That’s when the waitress brought out the crab dip and the nachos. I think the dip was really a modified version of thousand island dressing and the nachos were loaded with beans and black olives. I don’t like beans and black olives, so if I ordered those and said, “Hold the beans and olives,” I would have a plate of dry tortilla chips.
I ordered another glass of wine. The waitress said, “Do you need more time?”
I said, “No, I think I will just have dessert. What do you have?”
“We have chocolate pudding, jello or ice cream. Only vanilla tonight.”
What a choice. No way would I want any of that.
I asked the waitress, “If you were going to order something for dinner, what would you have?”
She replied, “Well, to tell you the truth, I would stick with the wine.”
Since she was more sober than I was, at that point, I said, “Good idea. Bring me another glass.”
I grabbed my cell phone and ordered a pizza, and asked that it be delivered to me, at the diner. Amazingly, the pizza was delivered to me at my table. I noticed the people looking at me and my pizza, and they tried to order it from the waitress. I butted in, of course, and told them that I had called the Pizza Palace and had it delivered.
By the time I had finished eating, the Pizza Palace had delivered 9 more pizzas to the diner. The diner blackballed me after that night. I was no longer a welcome guest. Thank goodness for small favors.