Thursday, June 26, 2008

What are you... a pack of wild animals?

I'm sure my family ate out more than most when we were kids. We were generally well-behaved in restaurants... never ate gum off the bottom of the table or ran around throwing food. Not that we had the best manners though.

At home during dinner we'd take turns spelling things like "ketchup" or "casserole." At restaurants we didn't need to bother with things like that, we had more interesting things to keep our attention. Restaurants always have extra things on their tables that aren't normally on the table at home... like straws. The straw papers always had to be blown at someone. Even now it's almost painful for me to just pull off the paper and set it nicely on the table like a civilized person. One time we were at Sizzler and I tried to blow a straw at my dad. It completely missed him and flew over his shoulder to the booth behind him. Luckily the couple who were sitting there happened to be busy over at the salad bar, so we were spared the humiliation of getting caught.

Restaurants also often have small baskets of crackers on the table. We were at a Chinese place on one occasion and Corinne thought it'd be funny to try and eat all the crackers before our waitress came back. She had a couple packets worth of crackers shoved in her mouth before my mom quickly shut down the operation... she "wasn't paying for a nice dinner so we could get filled up on crackers!"

Another common addition to the restaurant table is a carafe of water. Once we were at Village Inn and Corinne made a bet that she could drink the whole carafe herself in less than two minutes. She drank glass after glass or water, slugging it down in a nail biting race against time. She actually won that bet but didn't feel too good afterwards. I think she only won $2 so I'm not sure it was worth the pain.

For some reason my parents never took leftovers home from restaurants. For years, whenever I was unable to finish all of my delicious meal, I was saddened by the fact that the extras wouldn't be coming home with me. I knew that other people took theirs home, but my parents didn't, so we didn't either. I thought maybe it was a tacky thing to do. I never actually asked if I could take my leftovers home, I guess I just assumed the worst. I have since realized the beauty of the "doggie bag" and am a dedicated fan.


heidi said...

Corinne sounds very entertaining! From "villain" (well, not really) to goofball... but in your 7th grade story such a hero!!
I love leftovers, too! I sometimes even, like a total dork, bring my OWN plastic containers to restaurants in a discrete knapsack. (So that I don't have to take home styrofoam & throw it away.)