No, Really, I Am an American

Grant, Al, Chris Weise (Kris), and I went out for dinner on Tuesday night. It was my first restaurant experience back in America and you wouldn’t think it would be a big deal, and it wasn’t really, but it was certainly an experience to remember.

We went to Macaroni Grill ‘cuz I was in the mood for Italian. Grant and Kris were kind enough to pick me up and we met Al at the restaurant. I thought it might be super busy given the time we were dining, but we were seater right away. It was kinda weird not being asked “smoking or non-smoking” after living in a country that is so heavily smoking.

The trauma began when the waitress came to the table. For one thing, I understood everything she was saying; and again, after living in a country where I relied on Japanese-speaking mates to do the talking/ordering, it fuzzled the mind a little. I ordered a Coke with no ice and the beverage she brought me was ginormous! I was expecting something much smaller — and I knew I would be able to get free refills which prompted my brain to think it would be impossible to drink that much cola.

Everyone decided to order the make-your-own-pasta deal. For the most part, Kris filled us in on his life; I guess neither Al nor Grant really see much of him either. It was neat to hang out with them ‘cuz there was a time a few years ago that it was just the four of us hanging out. I’d missed that.

So when the waitress brought ’round our orders is when the trauma kind of started. To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t remember what I ordered. I mean I tried to not go with standard stuff. I thought that I ordered a red sauce, but the dish the waitress served me seemed to have a cream-based sauce. It had the chicken I’d ordered, and I saw the diced roma tomatoes, so I figured that it was okay.

We all started eating and Grant realized they didn’t add the spinach he’d ordered with his. He looked into mine and asked me if they put any in mine. I found some so again, I thought it was okay. It looked like they had actually put the spinach in Al’s instead. He sent his food back, but was nice about it.

As I was eating, I came across some mushrooms. Now, I don’t mind mushrooms, but I wasn’t particularly interested in them so I asked Grant if he wanted them. To be honest, I thought it was included in the sauce so I didn’t give it much thought. It was at this point that Al pointed out that my dish wasn’t what I had ordered. Really, I didn’t care; I mean, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted but it seemed to taste all right.

When the waitress came and did another check-back, Al told her that my order was probably wrong. I really couldn’t remember what I’d ordered, so I couldn’t verify this. The waitress asked me if I wanted her to take it back and by this point, the others were encouraging me to send it back. I was used to Japan, though. I mean, if they brought me the wrong food in Japan, I’d eat it; mostly ‘cuz I didn’t have enough Japanese to communicate that it was wrong and ‘cuz you don’t really do that in Japan. I told the waitress I was fine with it, so I kept on eating.

Not long after, the manager approached the table with my original order. She said that she was sorry about the mix-up and that my meal was on her. I was pretty thrown off by it ‘cuz I really didn’t care and I didn’t want to cause trouble. I mean, I thought it was pretty sad I couldn’t remember what I’d ordered to begin with.

It was kinda neat having a free meal out of the deal, but I kinda felt bad. The experience was mildly traumatic ‘cuz my first restaurant experience back in the States just ended up being more of an experience than I’d expected.

Al had to part company with us right after dinner, but Kris, Grant, and I still had time to play. Unfortunately for us, we couldn’t think of what to do. I couldn’t help but laugh a little; I’d kinda forgotten that coming home meant not having a lot to do at night.

We ended up going to Border’s, ‘cuz, well…it’s been a while since I’ve been to the bookstores…and damn if I don’t love me a good bookstore.

While we were traipsing around, Chris O called Grant. I couldn’t help but laugh a little that it was about Dixie peeing in the car. It was decided that we would go to the Halfway House after wandering around Borders.

It was nice hanging out with Mark and Chris (albeit briefly) and just talking. Mark mentioned that I should try for District 214 instead of 211. Grant and I didn’t leave the Halfway House till 1 AM; just like ol’ times.