Monday, December 16, 2013

Restaurant Ramblings

We've all been there. Sitting in a restaurant, quietly waiting for our food, trying to make conversation so we forget that we have already forgotten what we ordered, when you hear it. The sweet, sophisticated conversation of the table one over from you. For whatever reason, perhaps some unintentional flaw in the universe, whenever there is a lull in conversation or a drop in the music, THAT is the exact moment when you hear something like this: 

Random girl #1: "What's 'edamame'?"

Random girl #2: "Ummm... I think it's like... some kind of Japanese dish? Maybe, like, with fish or something?"

Random girl with wine #1: "Oh shut up! It is not! It's like... beans or something. Like, really fancy beans."

(This is the point where you look at everyone else at your table hoping to high heavens that they are hearing this intellectually stimulating stream of consciousness) 

Random girl #2: "Oh. Wait... so it's pronounced 'Ed-A-Mah-May'?" 

Random girl with wine #1: "Uh, yeah. How do you think it's supposed to be pronounced?" 

Random girl #2: (laughs LOUDLY) "Oh my god, I totally thought it was, like, 'edible mommies'!" 

...


DID THAT JUST HAPPEN. 

Well, spoiler alert, it did. I was sitting in a booth with my family at a restaurant Sunday night and I overheard this actual discussion taking place! It was wonderful and fantastic. 

The best part was I looked over at my mom and she was wearing the same look of utterly amused disbelief as I was. EDIBLE MOMMIES. 

Nailed it. 'Edible Mommies' just sounds so much better, don't you think? I mean, it just makes sense! Why would anyone call those 'super fancy beans' anything else? It just feels right. Let's just scrap edamame and go with yours. 

I would have been able to let it go if not for this next part. 

Not even five minutes later, I was talking to my little brother and we both stopped mid sentence because of the words that cut through Taylor Swifts' latest love tragedy:

Random guy #1: "Is this a lemon? Honey? Do you think this is a lemon?" 

Random girl # something: "Well, it's yellow, babe. And it's in your water." 

Random guy #1: "The doesn't mean it's a lemon. Is it a lemon? It might be a Lemon. Hold on. Maybe- just a minute- yup! I squeezed it. It's definitely a lemon." 


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You know when you hear a word so much that it doesn't even mean anything anymore? Yeah, that.  LEMONLEMONLEMONLEMON. 

Lemon. 

These are the overheard conversations that I live for! They absolutely one hundred percent make my day.

Now, some of you out there may think that I'm being rude, insensitive, or judgmental, but I can assure you, I'm not. It's actually quite the opposite.

You may have guessed, my dear readers, based on my previous posts, that on more than one occasion I have been the one whispering these conversations to the unfortunate people who have to share my table and company. I'm not ashamed of it. In fact, I have come to terms with it and no longer feel the overwhelming need to curl up under my ABSOLUTELY USELESS material napkin and hide. 

Just so that I am abundantly clear, here's an example of my glorious intelligence from that same dinner: 

The setting: My mother and I have just ordered tea with honey as is our custom when out in public for dinner. Very suave. The tea has just arrived in the form of a teabag, mug, tin of honey, and a small metal teapot. 

I impatiently unwrap the teabag, throw it in my mug unceremoniously, and drown it in boiling water. 

My mother, ever the wise and cunning, opens her teabag and PUTS IT IN THE MINI METAL TEAPOT. 

Me: (stares in open and unveiled shock at her mother's tea) "YOU CAN DO THAT?!" 

My mom: "Do what?" 

Me: "HOW HAVE I NEVER FIGURED OUT THAT YOU PUT THE TEABAG IN THE MINI TEAPOT?! THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE!" 

My mom: "... Alexandra, you can't be serious. Come on."

Me: "My god! It's just a tiny teapot! That's all it is! Why have I never seen that before? I thought it was just a little holder for your hot water!"

Ladies and gentlemen, I will reiterate that while this is somewhat embarrassing it is the absolute genuine truth. I did not even have the wherewithal to piece that one together. 

My mom: "Oh my god- you're serious, aren't you?" 

Me: "Ooooh man, why have I wasted so many years doing this the wrong way?! I... wait... why have you never corrected me?"

My mom, step dad, and younger brother couldn't answer me. They were all too busy laughing silent shoulder-shaking laughter at the look on my face. Thanks guys.

See, while I was laughing earlier about the concepts of 'Edible Mommies' and not knowing whether the yellow slice of citrus in a glass of water was a lemon, someone probably overheard my rather incompetent epiphany and thought I was a Grade A cotton-headed-ninny-muggins. 

I don't blame them. I mean, it's literally just a smaller version of a teapot. Ahhhh... 

So my point, dear blogland, is that whenever you are out in a restaurant, or any public area for that matter, just know that when you say something ridiculous or stupid, I can guarantee that that is when the music will die out. That is when the conversations around you will slip away. That is when you server will walk by. That is when you won't be able to contain your question any longer. And that is when you will realize just how important it is to be able to laugh at yourself. 

And on that note, 

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