I Have Failed My Family

We pulled out of the driveway just as the sky opened up and rained solidly for half and hour. For those 30 minutes, we were mostly trying to decide on a place to eat as our first choice was too busy to bother getting out in the rain. We finally chose another local spot and as we parked the rain stopped. It was quite fortuitous, as the air conditioning inside was set so cold and so high that we were all shivering. I don't know if I could have stayed if my clothes had been wet.

The waitress asked if we had any questions. Ha! Of course we do. Little C wants to know if he can order a pepperoni pizza with no pepperoni. (Remember, this is the kid who asked a plantation tour guide what 7 times 243 was when he was asked for any questions.) Big C wanted to know if there was meat in the sauce on the mostaccioli. (There was. Pause game to come up with another choice for dinner.) Miss M wanted to know if the tomato-mushroom-bisque soup was with chunks of mushrooms or were they pureed. (Chunks. But she had an available Plan B.)

Eventually we all order. We all talk politely through chattering teeth and finished a couple of kids' menu puzzles. The place was not too busy and it wasn't long before a waitress brought our food out. She was not the one who took our orders. Our waitress had shorter hair pulled back neatly.

Not this lady.

This one had LONG like there-is-not-one-valid-reason-to-justify-hair-so-long kind of hair. It was wound up in a loose, loopy kind of thing that was bouncing against her spine somewhere around C6 or C7. Long chunks were loose and hanging down her back.

My real problem begins here. The inconvenience of the weather and the complaints in the car about every other place we drove by? Sure, they contributed to my choice. But I had only complained about the air conditioning so far.

So...

I was the only one sitting where I could see the waitress carrying out the tray of food on her shoulder. It was dinner for 5. It was heavy. So she scrunched up her shoulder and...hold on while I gag again...balanced it against the side of her HEAD. And when she turned to find an empty table to set it on IT happened. Her HAIR went smack into one of the dishes.

My lips parted to protest but I had a flashback of what it took to get to that table. I had a flash forward to what someone in the kitchen might intentionally do to any replacement food if I bitched about the waitress he has a crush on. I took note that it was not my actual plate involved.

And I

said

nothing.

I slowed my breathing. I averted the anxiety and swallowed the bile rising in my throat. And I ate my dinner. And if the family member who ate the food that was wiped by her snarly mop gets ill, I will feel responsible. But until that happens, I'm not telling whose dinner was violated.