Tuesday in Pizza Hut with Auntie

I had lunch with my favorite gambling aunt yesterday. Not that all of my aunts gamble. Only on my dad's side of the family.

We met at Pizza Hut. That's because I know how many calories are in a Personal Pan Supreme without pepperoni. Let the record show that we did NOT partake of the lunch buffet. No sirree, Bob! Val has had her fill (literally) of buffets. I ordered a cheese Personal Pan to take home for The Pony. And after we ate, when I was thinking it was about time to go...Auntie ordered COOKIES!

You know, there I was, sitting on my rickety chair, being so good, only having the Personal Pan and a glass of water, and she ordered A DOZEN chocolate chip cookies! Let the record show that nary a one crossed Val's lips. Not a single, warm, oozy, golden brown, chock-full-o-chips, plump, chocolate chip cookie. Nor did Val snort, inject, chew-and-spit-out, apply to skin, suck the moisture from, or place under her tongue like a nitroglycerin tablet...one single cookie. Nope. She rebuffed Auntie's well-intentioned insistations to "Take one! Come on! Have a couple!" And packed up three in a Personal Pan box brought out by the foot-dragging waitress to take home to The Pony.

It took about 20 minutes to get those cookies. And as Auntie said, "They're just sliced off a store-bought roll, but I think they're delicious." I think the waitress was kind of irked with us. With Auntie. Not Val. Val has an exemplary permanent record, making it her business not to piss people off. But Auntie is one to speak her mind. If you're in the hospital facing tests or treatment, or on the floor at a truck-stop restaurant with a broken hip, Auntie is the one you want in your corner, calling the shots. And on this day, Auntie called out the waitress for the sticky table.

"This table is sticky. Will you wipe it for us?"

"I can. Not that it will help. They're just old."

"That can't make them sticky, can it?"

"We tell the manager that all the time. That they're still sticky. But I'll wipe it again for you." She left and came back with a wet cloth and wiped the table.

"If it's so old, why don't you get new ones?"

"The manager says we don't need them."

"You know why your chairs are so rickety, don't you? From people trying to slide them back on the carpet. You really need new furniture."

"That's what WE say. But he doesn't think so."

Let the record show that the table was just as sticky after wiping as before. Auntie unfolded her napkin and laid it out like a place mat. She told me to do the same. I didn't want to. But after my elbows stuck to the table, I did. Then Auntie asked for more napkins. Let the record show that mine stuck to the table when I tried to peel it off.

At the end of the meal, Auntie slid back (with difficulty) her rickety chair on the carpet. She picked up the tab, saying it was for my retirement. And that she wanted the senior discount, and the points she gets on her credit card. I left the tip, because Auntie doesn't carry cash.

I left $5.00 on a $24.00 bill. Because that waitress lasted a lot longer jawing with Auntie than most.