When you were last dining with me in High Winds Casino in Miami, Oklahoma... Sis had just been forced to order an actual item listed on the menu as available at dinner time, and Hick and The Pony had ordered the 2 for Tuesday Sirloin Steaks for $22.
I am suspicious that the Frito-Denier Waitress had spilled the tale of her Sis-encounter in the kitchen. She did NOT have Frito crumbs around her mouth when she brought our food, but she DID have two assistants. As if perhaps they wished to get an ogle at The Woman Who Dared To Ask For A Frito Chili Pie For Dinner. Yes, we had five plates. So F-DW could not have carried them all herself. Most often, a couple plates will arrive at a time. Believe me, I know. I'm always the last one to be served!
Anyhoo... leading the procession was a thin whippet (as opposed to an obese whippet, heh, heh) of a boy with a mullet of stringy dyed-black hair, and a possibly un-self-aware expression of angst on his sallow face. He carried THREE plates, two on his left forearm, and one in his right hand. Behind him was F-DW with Sis's omelet, and a nondescript dishwater blond waif with my Chopped Steak.
Emo Guy bellied up to the table between Ex-Ex-Mayor and The Pony.
"Sirloin medium?"
"Right here," said XXM.
"Sirloin medium-rare?"
"That's mine," said Hick, who was seated on my left, with The Pony on my right. So Hick was across the table from Emo Guy.
Emo Guy took the plate from his left hand, and leaned across to hand it to Hick with his right.
"Hey! Hey! LOOK OUT!" I couldn't help myself.
As Emo Guy was leaning, the remaining plate balanced on his left forearm started to tilt. Liquid poured over the edge in a trickling juice-fall, which was getting closer and closer to The Pony as Emo Guy leaned farther.
"Oh! Whoa!" said The Pony as the hot liquid cascaded onto his right thigh.
"Oh. Sorry," said Emo Guy, righting the plate. "Sirloin rare?"
"That would be mine," said The Pony, pulling wet cloth away from his steaming leg.
"Sorry about that." Again from the Emo Guy.
F-DW stepped up to the spot vacated by Emo Guy, who made his a getaway to the kitchen. She reached across the table to hand Sis her omelet. Then Dishwater Blond Waif stepped up, and reached across The Pony to set my Chopped Steak in front of me. It was as if all other positions around the table were kryptonite to them! Our table was in the middle of the floor. They could have stood right beside each person to serve us.
Emo Guy returned with a stack of napkins that he thrust at The Pony. Who used one to dab at his leg, and scattered the rest across the puddle on the floor. Which you might reasonably have assumed the Emo Guy would have cleaned up. You also might imagine that The Pony would be compensated with a free dessert, or a discounted meal, or a coupon for future dining. But he was not. Good thing he didn't get a 2nd-degree burn from that hot juice, and need a skin graft!
"Sorry, Pony! Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It just got a little on my leg. It'll probably wash out. It doesn't hurt. You know what that was, don't you?"
"No. Juice from the steak?"
"It was the herbed butter that I--I mean Dad--paid $1.50 extra for. I still have a little bit left on the steak."
Yeah. The Pony might have had 50-cents worth of his herbed butter left on his sirloin.
My Chopped Steak looked like a meatball! Not only that, but it was cooked SO DRY that it reminded me of my dad's grilled hamburgers. At least it was quite tasty, once dredged through some of the A1 Sauce that XXM had requested.
True, they did not give me an option to say how I wanted my Chopped Steak cooked. I usually ask for medium, and it comes out medium-well, which is fine. But some places won't let you choose on your chopped steak. I think some localities have a rule that it must be well-done, to prevent E. coli outbreaks.
Apparently there are no rules about pouring hot butter on the customers...
____________________________________________________________________
Sis Should Be Careful What She Asks For [with food photos]
Val's Pulsating Weirdo Magnet
Hick, the Law-Abiding Stickler
it is always an event when you guys dine at casinos. Love your stories. Sorry about Pony's buttered thigh.
ReplyDeleteYes, there's always a tale to be told about our fine dining experiences! The Pony didn't pull up lame, so all is well. I'm pretty sure he would have cried over spilled herbed butter before a burned thigh.
ReplyDeleteEmo Boy needs to learn to walk around a table instead of leaning across it. Perhaps this episode will teach him that. Sorry The Pony lost most of the herbed butter though.
ReplyDeleteThat's the real tragedy, that The Pony went without 2/3 of his herbed butter! Skin will heal. Sis's denial of a Frito Chili Pie pales in comparison.
DeleteThey really had it in for your table! Buttering the Pony's high, drying out your meat. Not to mention bringing the entire kitchen staff out to see you all!
ReplyDeleteYes, they did. I suppose a "Thanks, Sis." is in order. Dripping with sarcasm, of course, like herbed butter dripping off a Pony-leg!
Delete