sensitive diner

 

 i have recently discovered that nothing makes me more heartbroken and upset than discovering that a menu item i wanted is no longer available. something about selecting an item and building it up in my mind to a point where my mouth is already watering and i'm rereading the description over and over again, confirming that i have indeed made the best possible choice.

and then the waitress shows up. and i proudly tell her what i would like to order, hoping she will be impressed with my selection, a selection she knows is the best the menu has to offer. and i wait for her to applaud me and then -

her face falls. it twists into an expression of pity, similar to what you might offer an over enthusiastic child when you have to tell him the camping trip is cancelled.

she is sorry to report, but they are out of the (donut nutella muffins) (eggs florentine) (red jello). would you like to make another selection?

this news is so devestating that i'm never quite sure how to handle it. in a shocked voice, i quickly reply, "no. no thank you."

"nothing at all? we have a great cheesey skillet."

"no. nothing at all."

because i have formed such a mental bond with that menu item - that unavailable menu item - that to order anything else would seem treason. the widow going home with her deceased lover's brother. i won't dishonor what we had like that. your memory will live on (donut nutella muffins) (eggs florentine) (red jello).

after the initial shock, i feel slightly embarrassed. of course they're out of (donut nutella muffins) (eggs florentine) (red jello). that was the best thing! the waitress is not impressed with my selection; she pities me for even picking it - the most obvious, most popular menu option.

and that is how my breakfasts/brunch/dinners are ruined.

maybe i will learn to cope better when i'm 23.