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Monday, May 16, 2005

Fine Dining with Spritz

(for those new to blog-reading, click on the underlined words to get the visuals!)

I have already committed the cardinal sin of blogging, which is to say, I've told a lot of friends and family about my blog. If you have not started blogging yet (you know you want to), or if you are a blogger who is debating whether or not to reveal your blog to people you know and love, DON'T DO IT. There are many reasons not to do so, but first and foremost is that having those close to you reading your blog dramatically decreases the number of stories you can tell and the ways in which you can tell them. The following is told with reluctant permission from one, and enthusiastic encouragement from others.

Saturday night, we went to Roy's, to celebrate the 75th birthdays of both Nana and Pop Pop (Jif's parents). I had never been to Roy's before. Jif and I don't get out much anymore, and when Shiraz McConaughey, Jif's little sis, suggested we take the parents there for their birthdays, I was thinking, "Roy Rogers?! We can do better than that . . ." Like I say, I don't get out much. We were seated at a table for 10, with Nana at one end, beside me, and Pop Pop at the other end. At Nana's other side, across from me, sat Shiraz. Next to Shiraz sat her handsome husband, "Spritz." (That wasn't his name until Jif christened him that during the drive home . . . you'll see why . . . ) And across from Spritz, beside me, sat my love, Jif. Our end of the table was having a high old time, and I expect the other end was, as well. We enjoyed calamari, wine, Maui Wowie salads, wine, sashimi, macadamia-encrusted Mahi Mahi, wine, and finally, for dessert, WINE. No, just kidding. For dessert, those at our end of the table enjoyed Roy's famous chocolate souffle. This is like a tiny, personal chocolate cake, that is still liquid batter in the middle. HOT batter.

As Spritz took his first too-big bite of this heavenly confection, and attempted to swallow, the hot batter burned his tonsillicular area so badly that he coughed/spit/spritzed the big chocolate bite right out of his mouth and across the freakin' table right into Jif's face. His forehead region, to be exact. So that Jif had chunks o' chocolate from eyebrows to slightly recessed hairline. Imagine if you were standing by a large mud puddle when a Humvee rolled through it, splattering wet, brown globs onto your face. I swabbed Jif up with my napkin while Spritz tried to explain his shocking behavior, something about, "It was HOT!"

Jif, being a glass-half-full kind of guy, allowed, "Well, Spritz, if you had to spit something in my face, at least it was something tasty."

Spritz, also an optimistic kind of guy, quickly grabbed the olive branch that Jif extended, agreeing, "Yea, it's not like I spit raw tuna at you." And the two brothers-in-law shook hands across the table. Ah, sweet reconciliation. However, although chocolate was wiped (from forehead, then later from eyeglasses, and eyelids, and cheeks), and hands were shaken, Spritz knew that in this family, as in many others, once you act like a hyena, intentionally or otherwise, stories will be told. Forever. And they might even be embellished. And now, thanks to the miracle of modern technology, even blogged.

As entertaining as the flying choco-bits were, they jogged Shiraz's memory of an even better "Spritz goes out to eat" story. This was some 10 years ago. Shiraz and Spritz had just become engaged, and Jif and I had just learned that we were expecting LG. A lot to celebrate, so Jif and I invited Shiraz and Spritz out to a lovely, elegant old inn on the Chesapeake Bay. Spritz, then in his early 20s and not yet the world-class salesman, executive type that he is today, was a little less than sophisticated when it came to ordering haute cuisine. I think Jif and I must have been somewhat impressed, maybe even a little intimidated when the young, newly betrothed Spritz ordered the Salmon Mousse.

We were toasting, talking, laughing, just generally having a delightful evening, when the waitress came to deliver our culinary delights. We three oohed and ahhed at the plates placed before us. But not Spritz. He politely but assertively called the waitress back to the table.

"This is not what I ordered," he informed her.

She flipped open her chic leatherette pad. "I have the 'Salmon Mousse' for you, sir," she said with professionalism.

OK, this is where the dialogue gets a little fuzzy for me, because it's been ten years and dozens of Spritz stories, and lots of laughter and a bit of wine. But here's what went wrong:

Spritz was waiting for a Surf and Turf sort of entree. He wanted some salmon. And he wanted some moose. MOOSE. With big ol' antlers. The boy wanted a piece of fish and a Bullwinkle steak!

Shiraz said Spritz was dejected for days after that incident. "I was really looking forward to trying that moose. I never had moose before . . . "

***

You know I love you, Spritz ;)


Do you have an embarrassing restaurant story? OR, would you like to take Spritz out to eat?

69 heads are better than one . . .

Blogger Squirl said...

Well, there was the one I blogged about. I was waitressing and it was almost closing time after a very busy night. The room was dimly lit. I bent over to pick up a tray of dirty dishes to go back to the kitchen. As I bent over one of those little, skinny bar straws went right up my nose. I pulled it out pretty fast and I don't remember if anyone saw me. Glad the room was dimly lit.

 
Anonymous lawbrat said...

I was waitressing, in the kitchen waiting for my tables food. I'd been at it for 3 years, without big incident. The table happened to be right outside the kitchen door. There was 5 or 6 at the table. I had the tray loaded, as I was walking out, a manager added some condiment or something to the tray. I lost balance, boom! entire tray of food crashed to the floor.
I go out to the table. I said 'did you hear that loud crash in the kitchen?' they were like, ya...what happened? I replied - that was your breakfast. They laughed. I was so happy they took it well. I had their food out as soon as the cooks cooked it.

 
Blogger Weetzie said...

Glad to see you back, I missed you while you had the headache...I know I have a good embarrassing restaurant story in my head somewhere but I am going to have to think about it for a bit! Your story is great and your family sounds lovely! =)

 
Anonymous lawbrat said...

Yes, another comment. The kids and I were out, and I think it was an embarrasing moment for the server. We were at a Mexican restaurant. I have the boys order themselves. We figure it out before hand, they tell the server what they want. Brennen, he was 10, ordered the tamales. The server looks at me, like Brennen is invisible, and says, is he sure he wants the tamales? I said...why dont you ask him? He did ask Brennen again! He warned Brennen they were spicy. Brennen, without missing a beat, said ...yes I want the tamales and some extra hot salsa with it too.
Waiter still had stuff to say. The hot salsa is hot, are you sure. At that point I said...He does know what he likes, and if he orders it, he wants it. Just because he's a child dosent mean he dosent know what he wants.
I couldnt believe the server. Never had we had a server do that.

 
Blogger Squirl said...

Lawbrat, that is so rude. I never passed over anyone who tried to order for him/herself. One family took in children with Downs Syndrome. Even when someone else was doing the ordering for them I always asked the chidren and made eye contact with them while the order was being placed. Everyone is a person deserving that kind of respect. Thank you, I'll get off my soapbox now.

 
Blogger Susie said...

squirl, too bad Bucky wasn't there to photograph that!

lawbrat, I'm sure your good humor was contagious to the customers.

squirl and lawbrat, I used to get very offended when waitstaff would ignore LG. We put some effort into teaching her restaurant manners, and how to order, etc., and I've had people completely ignore her speaking; I've had people pour water for everyone at the table except her; and I've asked for a table for five and been taken to a table for four with a chair pulled up to the corner and a place added for her. You don't wanna dis my kid; I ain't pretty when someone disses my kid :( End of rant. Thank you for listening.

weetzie, thank you. I cannot emphasize enough how much when one's family reads one's blog, one presents certain things in certain ways, and there are many more things that simply will not be presented ;)

 
Blogger Circus Kelli said...

Good morning, Susie! What a terrific story! Hee! Salmon Moose. :)

And that cake... wow, it sure does sound like it was delicious!

 
Blogger marybishop said...

Most embarrassing restaurant story for me was when I was 17, dating an older guy who took me to a chichi restaurant...nothing looked familiar on the menu - but I did see Scallops Ceviche.

I liked scallops so I ordered them. A few days later I was telling my aunt about my date and mentioned what I'd ordered and she said: wow, I couldn't eat raw scallops!

If I still had those scallops in my digestive system I would have found a way to get rid of them but it was too late...I could only dry heave at the memory of unknowingly eating raw scallops..(I don't consider a marinade an alternative to cooking!)

 
Anonymous lawbrat said...

Squirl- preach it sista. As like Susie, teaching kids how to have restaurant manners, and then have the server be so clueless. Your right, everyone is a person deserving that respect. You may have added more to your guests lives than you ever will know, with that single act of eye contact and giving them the feeling of importance.

 
Anonymous kalki said...

In high school I was at a sandwich shop with a bunch of friends, and I spilled my lemonade. We sopped up the spill on the table, but ignored the mess on the floor because the table we were in was next to a "wall" (divider, really) and we were CRAMMED in and it would have been way too difficult to have someone try to clean it up while we were there. I planned to tell the waitress about it when we left.

But apparently the lemonade oozed under the divider and under the table of the people on the other side of it, because they complained that sticky lemonade was soaking their shoes. Of course the waitress figured out where it was coming from and I felt like an IDIOT for not telling her about the spill immediately. (To all the waiters/waitresses reading this, please don't hate me.)

 
Blogger OldHorsetailSnake said...

That Spritz is dangerous.

One time I ordered wine; the waitress brought it and gave me first sip, which is standard. I took the sip, gagged, and fell on the floor.

She said, "Oh, my God. Someone help."

I said, "May I help you?"

Everybody thought it was funny except for you know who.

 
Blogger dashababy said...

hahahaa. that is so funny. you must take your camera to dinner with you. that woulda been priceles.
one time, we had a big family outing at the ever chic "olive garden". for dessert, i ordered cheesecake. it was beautiful as the waitress placed in front of me. kris, with fork poised wanted to get the first bite of "my" cheesecake but being a little quicker than she thought, stabbed the waitress in the hand before she could get her hand out of the way. i thought i would pee my pants, we laughed so hard as the waitress massaged her injured hand. she took it well tho and said "it happens all the time". a sense humor must be a requirement to be a waitress.

 
Blogger dashababy said...

wow, just checked out roys website. awesome. i wanna go there.

 
Blogger Pissy Britches said...

You speak the truth sista.. never tell friends about your blog. I have only told 2 people about mine and I don't have anything bad to say about those people or I wouldn't have told them. haha.

 
Anonymous MrsDoF said...

Aahh, twelve years of foodservice, the stories I could tell.
Two stand out in my mind. The first was one evening at Halloween and a family came in, the parents were regulars because both were college professors and our place was right down the street from ETSU.
Their little girl was about age 6 or 7, with bright red hair. She was obviously dressed for a costume parade, either going or coming. Just before they were seated by the hostess, I dropped to my knees in front of her and said "Pippi Longstocking! Where's your horse?" The gap-toothed grin that broke out would make the sunrise jealous.
"SHE Knows, Momma--SHE knows!"
Her mother explained that I was the first person all day to recognize her outfit.
The nasty time I remember was when a guy who left a quarter tip (no matter what he ordered or who his server was) made some terrible comments about how I was leaving two hours early to celebrate our wedding anniversary.
I went to the storeroom and got a bottle of dish soap, brought it out and set it down next to his coffee cup. I told him he needed to wash his dirty mouth before he could eat good food for breakfast.
My boss went nuts, just about fired me on the spot.
Two other waitresses said that if she goes, they were right behind me, and the cook came out of the kitchen and said the same thing. Other customers said they would not be back either, one guy said I had a good solution to a bad situation.
The guy got served breakfast by the owner, and he ate it in silence, but we never had him come in again, not that anybody cared.
Miss Susie, How do you do this? get everybody going down memory lane? I'm glad I wouldn't be in your office on official business. The therapist I have prods well enough already.

 
Blogger Susie said...

circus kelli, you can get something almost exactly like it from Williams Sonoma. They will UPS it to you, frozen, and you bake it. It is the best chocolate thing EVER.

mb, I don't like raw seafood or meat of any kind. I've tried; it just doesn't do a lot for me. Even the other night, someone's tuna was marinaded in something, and that tasted pretty good. But then I tried the plain ol' sashimi, and said I didn't like it. What I didn't like was the texture, but someone said, "How could you not like the taste, I don't think it has much taste." Exactly. If it doesn't have any flavor, and I don't like the texture . . . take this tuna back and grill it! And scallops, even cooked, I don't like the texture.

kalki, lawbrat, squirl and I are the former waitresses present, I believe. I am sure we all forgive you, and certainly don't hate you. Except because of your hair, but everyone hates you for that:)

hoss, I thought it was funny. But then, I start to laugh as soon as I see your name in my email list!

dashababymama, you are DANGEROUS, girl! I'm not sure where you are, but I would highly recommend Roy's for a special occasion. And even though it's fancy food and pricey, it's not stuffy or pretentious, at least ours wasn't. Nice, casual dress is fine, too. Not a foofi place.

pissy, there are a lot of good reasons to keep a blog "on the D-L." (Like if you are fond of using age-inappropriate slang and you don't want to get busted!) I don't have much bad to say about anybody; but I do have my own perspectives, and the blog is a "getaway" for me; I don't want it to create drama that I have to address in real life. That's just not what it's about for me.

Aw, mrsDoF, I like to help people feel comfy and invite them to talk. That's purty much it:) I love the Pippi story; I can just see that beautiful little face. You remind of a time that I served this real pain-in-the-ass party, where the guy was known to be a cheapskate, and he left $1 on the table. I picked it up and followed him outside, handed him his dollar and very sweetly said, "You forgot this on the table, sir." Turned and went back in before he could say anything. He and his family came back after that, and he always tipped decently from then on. I was in high school at the time.

 
Blogger Torrie said...

One time I was at an Italian restarant with my best friend. About five minutes after we sat down I started to get this unpleasant feeling in my crotch. Being that this was my best friend and I told her everything I said "Um, I don't know what's going on, but my crotch feels like it is on fire" She said with raised eyebrows "maybe you should go to the bathroom and check it out"
Upon getting up from my seat to go to the ladies room I saw it. There was a piece of ICE on my seat.
It's amazing how something so COLD can feel so HOT.
That'll teach me to go to a restaurant with no underwear on.

 
Blogger Susie said...

Torrie, torrie, torrie. Now you got all my commenters experimenting with the ice cubes :0

 
Blogger whfropera said...

Lawbrat - I already know you go there (i saw you in the comments!) but everyone else - get yourselves over to Waiter Rant IMMEDIATELY.
waiterrant.blogspot.com

 
Blogger Susie said...

Or you could stay here. We have cookies . . . wine . . . chocolate souffle, anyone . . . where'd everybody go?

 
Blogger Weetzie said...

I still haven't come up with a good restaurant story but I have 2 cents to put in about telling people about your blog. I haven't told my friends/family because sometime I may want to vent about them and as you say, wouldn't be able to "present" it quite the same way and like mrs. pissy britches, the only people I know with whom I have shared my blog are the people who I can already piss and moan at without reproach. thank heavens for those people and all you out there in bloggy-land.

 
Anonymous lawbrat said...

whfropera- I love waiter rant. He's great. But, I'm stayin here with Susie and cookies, wine, chocolate and souffle...Besides, I already read that one. :-)

 
Blogger Nic said...

HAHAHA! I have to say that I have never worked in the food service industry, but my BIL does and my SIL has and I have the utmost respect for those who have and do. Bless you people who have or had the patience to wait tables!

Have you ever been to www.stainedapron.com? It's a great waiter rant spot.

BTW, I always try to tip 20% or more if the service is outstanding, not ask for anymore than what is necessary, be kind and courteous to my server and make sure that my 3 1/2 year old is under control and well mannered. She does a good job of it too.

 
Blogger Random and Odd said...

My mom, the Fonz...took a bite of corn and a kernel SHOT out and hit the head of the person sitting behind my dad, who was sitting in front of her.

My mom giggled for like an hour over that one.

 
Blogger Greenthumb said...

When I was a server at Skamania Lodge, I had an embarrasing moment. The dining room is a large vaulted open space with windows around two sides. It was Sunday brunch, a very busy day with a full house. The volume of chatter was very loud as a result of the crowd and food. I'm on my way to one of my tables with a small round serving tray with a tea pot, cup and saucer and three flutes of champaign. My guest are chatting and they appear to be a middle aged daughter with her husband and and elderly mother. I lifted the tea cup and saucer off and placed it down and then grabbed the tea pot...this threw the balance off on the tray and as I tried to reposition a digit under the tray, two of the flutes wobbled and tipped forward. Champaign shot straight at the middle aged woman's face and chest and at the same time the elderly late let out the loud, unbelievably audible "WHOOOP!!!"

The dining room went dead silent. I was totally wrecked. I was trying to give my guest a towel and I don't even remember what I said, I just remember my fellow servers coming to my rescue.

I was so embarrased I had to leave the dining room. I went outside and cried and I couldn't go back in for the life of me. Finally, one of the other servers came and got me and said that they were asking for me. I was devastated. That woman was so incredibly kind and forgiving. I never did recover fully that day. Thankfully it was my friday.

 
Anonymous Julie said...

Just ONE embarrassing restaurant story? Wow, it must have been the time my mom threw a glass of water in my dad's face when my siblings and I took them out to dinner for their birthdays. We haven't taken them out since. Haven't blogged about it yet ... my family reads my blog. Your advice came too late.

 
Blogger ducklet said...

well, i hardly ever go to restaurants, but i do eat on airplanes quite a bit. on a cross country flight i spilled my entire whiskey on the pretty girl sitting next to me. right after take off. it was a long 5 hours for both of us. eeg.

 
Blogger SierraBella said...

My ex once requested chablis at a restaurant, but loudly pronounced it "Sha-bliss!"
In Mexico, he decided that talking extra-loud, and using the work "el" a lot would help with communication.
Truly the ugly American.

I've also shared my blog address with friends and family. When I rant (on one of my sites) I've found the guilty party rarely, if ever recognizes themselves. I guess this explains their repeated errors.

 
Blogger whfropera said...

Susie - I wasn't planning on leaving...I should have reprased that to "go visit and get yer ass back here!"
I need a drink today - evil,evil client again.
work is overrated.

 
Blogger Andrea said...

I'm with dashababy, I want to go to this restaurant! "Hawaiian Fusion", ohhhh... And look, there's one in Chicago, three hours from us!!! Next time we are in Chicago...

I have no embarrassing restaraunt stories. Embarrassing stories, yes, but none involving restaurants.

 
Blogger Susie said...

weetzie, Amen. The people that I have told about my blog are people with whom I have good relationships and who very well-developed senses of humor. But then someone tells someone, and someone tells someone else, and before you know it, someone that I had no idea was reading, and I've called them "Chardonnay Chappelle" . . . you just never know.

lawbrat and wtfopera, I think Waiter Rant is clever, too. Somehow, the "rant" genre of blogging isn't one of my favorites, even though there are some very smart and funny ones out there. Probably has to do with I hear plenty of ranting at work, etc.

nic, you sound like an excellent customer. You can eat in my little diner anytime.

Kristine, I feel like I know The Fonz thru your writing. I can just see and hear that incident. And hey, don't try to steal your sister's cheesecake, if you wanna keep your camera-hand!

greenie, honey. That is horrible. Thank heaven they were nice people. Things spill. They just do. Here, have some souffle.

julie, I hear ya. Some stories can't be told until after some people die. And I mean that in the nicest possible way :0

brando, I have an image of you licking your neighbor . . . I don't know . . .

sierrabella, I'm sure as a mate, he was a pain, but as blogfodder, he's a hoot! I loved those stories! Very interesting that the guilty parties don't see themselves :)

andrea, you must get out more. Your girls will surely embarrass you in a restaurant someday. Mine told the whole restaurant that her dad and I needed to buy new "naked massage oils," just last summer :(

 
Blogger JessicaRabbit said...

I was out with my boys and my x at Red Lobster, and I love love love crab legs, so I had me a big ol plate and was squeezing lemon all over them and I got blasted right in the eye with not only juice but pulp and seed as well.

My boys lost it, they couldnt stop laughing while Im sitting there with juice running down my face, my eye started to tear up right away and I said oh ow ow it burns, which just made them get worse. I went to the bathroom to wash up and when I got back they were still losing it, to the point of being disruptive, so I said ok ok go to the bathroom and settle down and come back.

Their dad took them in and they come back later, all 3 still laughing and I looked at them and said, You all stood around in the bathroom saying ow it burns didnt you? And they all lost it again.

It was really pretty amusing but we did get the stink eye from a few people around us for all the laughing...

 
Blogger Torrie said...

Jessica's story reminds me of the time I got shot in the eye with champagne right at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.
I spent the first few minutes of the year flushing my eye with water.
I knew that year was going to suck.

 
Blogger Andrea said...

Oh, man, Susie, I was going to spam that guy right back with my handy-dandy "You Are an Idiot" link! Then I came back here and it's gone! You are fast, girlfriend.

 
Blogger Dawn said...

The guy in the bath tub, ........
Priceless. What a visual that was!
When I was 9 I threw-up on the table once while eating bubblegum (blue) ice cream in a restaurant. I was caughing, and sneezing at once and out it came-looked like a smurf exploded. That's my embarassing story.Sorry for the visual,kinda gross too-but had to tell it!

 
Blogger Dawn said...

oh I forgot one thing-good advice about not telling people you know about your blog. It's one thing to have complete strangers read about and comment-but to have someone you actually know-scary!

 
Blogger Ern said...

At least he spit CHOCOLATE at Jif, and not SALMON MOUSSE. Now THAT would have been gross to get in your face.

 
Blogger Bente said...

My husband told his family about my blog even though I wasn't planning on it, so I didn't have any choice. Then I decided to tell my family because it didn't seem right for his to know and not mine. My family's response "Are you bored or something?" They don't even read it now, but my husband's family does all the time :(

 
Blogger Squirl said...

Susie, I forgot to mention the part about not telling your family. I think it's a little late for me as I got the idea to blog from my lovely sister, Bucky, who was then followed by my brother Tardist. Tardist has ticked us both off with posts. Bucky has promised not to blog anything too embarrassing about me if I provide rum cake. Rum cake this weekend, actually, as she is coming over for a visit. It wouldn't work to try to blackmail her because, as you know, she'll tell pretty much anything about herself anyway. :-)

 
Blogger Southern Fried Girl said...

You mean other than the time that I spilled drawn butter from a lobster lamp on a woman's mink coat? She lost her damn mind and harassed me for the rest of the meal about her damn coat. I wanted to yell at her "Well, don't wear a damn carcas, you idiot."

 
Blogger Southern Fried Girl said...

Here is a better one because it is not me being embarassed. We were at IHOP. It had just opened by my house so we went with the husband's kids. The girl comes up and while I am looking down at my menu, I see something very small and bead like bounce on my table. She picks it up and goes "Oh, that is what I get for eating candy while I work." It was HER CANDY that bounced all over my table. Had she not said anything and just picked up what I thought was a bead and stuck it in her pocket, I would have never known. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

 
Anonymous Sharkey said...

When I was a kid, my mom took my sister and me out to eat. It was quite the treat because we didn't have a lot of money. The service happened to be poor, and there were other issues that I don't even remember.

Mom ordered a burger or some kind of sandwich with lettuce on it, and the lettuce was a little past its prime, to say the least. It was the final straw. So rather than setting the lettuce off to the side of her plate and continuing with her meal, she called the waitress over. I'll never forget the sight of that limp lettuce in her hand as she shook it in front of the waitress's face. "Do you expect me to eat THIS?!?" I could've crawled under the table.

I'd take chocolate souffle on the face anytime over that embarrassment. Especially from Roy's . . . mmmmmmmmmm.

 
Blogger Susie said...

jess and torrie, ouch. How about safety goggles for lemon squeezing and cork popping?

andrea, yes, I happened to pop on at just the right time and nuked the little sucker.

losc, IMO, almost anything that calls to mind a Smurf is funny :) La la la la la la, la la la la la

ern, truth be told, fish custard is pretty gross even its proper container, don't ya think?

bente, I feel your pain. It does change things.

squirl, did Tardist recently delete a post for reasons related to this? I thought I was losing it, cause I could have sworn I commented on one of the KY posts at his place, but then it was gone (with the wind; had to say that). You could start posting things about Bucky teaching Sunday School or something like that; that would offend her terribly ;)

sfg, the buttermink story is rough. And did the candy fall out of her mouth, her pocket, what? Either way, ugh.

sharkey, I'd have to vote with you on that one. Chocolate in the face beats mom freaking out and shaking her lettuce ;)

 
Blogger Dawn said...

Okay I feel really stupid asking this but what does IMO mean? And you thought you were technologically challenged, only recently I figured out what LOL means. I'm slow-it must be all the blood rushing to my busted foot-not nourishing my brain cells

 
Blogger Dawn said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

 
Blogger Susie said...

losc, I thought I was the very last one to know everything! I think I learned that from Rina Bee, it is "in my opinion." Sometimes I just make up my own acronymns; I think others do, too. Now, I do hope you don't have Smurf nightmares. Nightsmurfs, that is. Think happy Smurf thoughts as you go to sleep ;)

 
Blogger Susie said...

Happy Tuesday, everyone. If you visit me today, howdy and welcome. Nothing new from me today; I'm swamped from early 'til late, so I won't be talking back to you 'til late tonight. Please let me know you stopped in, though! Have a good one :)

 
Blogger Circus Kelli said...

Susie, I hope you have a really good day today, even though it will be a busy one for you. Thinking of you.

 
Blogger Squirl said...

Susie, it's funny you should mention Bucky and Sunday School. One year I taught Sunday School. It was Bucky's age group, but they wouldn't put us together. Probably better anyway. She wouldn't have listened any more to me than she did her own teacher.

 
Blogger Mamaramma said...

Spritz could come out to dinner with me any time! He'd fit right in!

 
Blogger Candace said...

I didn't comment earlier because I just couldn't think of any embarassing restaurant moments. Not that I'm THAT cool, I just tend to not get embarassed!

Then DH reminded me about the time I was newly pregnant with The Boy, and very very very very sick. We were driving back from Atlanta (from the Olympics, even) and had stopped to eat at an Applebee's. I felt really hungry, so I actually was eating. Then, without warning, I barfed on my plate. Honestly. I didn't feel it coming; it was just *there*. I wasn't embarassed. I mean, for crying out loud, I was *pregnant*; it's not like it was my fault or something!

I had forgotten all about it. Too funny!

 
Blogger Candace said...

Oh, and regarding the telling your family about your blog: don't do it, those of you who haven't yet. I am very limited by what I can write, as I don't particularly care to lose my title of "Best Offspring".

Perhaps someday I'll start another, more anonymous blog. Or not. I'm awfully lazy.

 
Blogger Bucky Four-Eyes said...

First: Roy's. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm! And though I'm not a real chocolate fan, that souffle IS to die for...

Second: As much as y'all think I say about myself on my blog, there are LOTS of things that go unshared, because:
a) Too many people I know (and many I work with) read my blog;
and
b) I've posted my own face too many times.

Sorry, folks, but if you wanna know the stuff I don't blog, ya gotta email me. You know the rules.

Oh, and just about every time I enter a restaurant, it's guaranteed to be embarassing for someone involved.

 
Blogger Circus Kelli said...

My family and friends know about my site/blog, but I don't think that many actually read it anymore. My site started as a way to keep extended family up-to-date on Punkin's antics when she was just a very little clown. The site has morphed into the blog for now.

 
Blogger Von Krankipantzen said...

This is probably the only time that chocolate doesn't appeal to me. Only barely, though.

 
Blogger Dawn said...

hi-happy tuesday too. Have a break-have a Kit Kat-(I think you have those chocolate bars in USA).

 
Blogger Ern said...

I thought of a funny restaurant story. My husband and I were out for Italian food with another couple, and during the salads, my friend's husband had to sneeze while he was chewing. Rather than covering his mouth with his hand, he pulled his white shirt up over his mouth and nose and let fly with the sneeze. An orange spatter of chewed up carrot stained his shirt from the inside out. We were hysterical, and have never let him live it down.

 
Blogger john boy said...

Oh man, I'm crying here, MOOSE...classic! LOL

 
Blogger Greenthumb said...

I've let my blog be known to my family now. For me it's not about having the privacy to say something about them behind their backs, but more about, hey, this is who I am and how I think. This is what I'm doing. IF I need to do that kind of writing I'll create a new site unbroadcasted. That being said, there isn't a whole lot that's sacred in my family so it's not like I'm really leaving anything out.

 
Blogger Dawn said...

Do any of your clients know that you have a blog? if yes, what are their reactions to it? just wondering!

 
Blogger No_Newz said...

Awww bless his Spritzy heart! Great stories.
What did make you tell your family about your blog? My family also knows about mine, some even come back to read it every day. My mom is my number one fan. LOL I refuse to censor myself even for my loved ones. Sometimes I warn them a real doozie is going to be posted, but mostly, I let them read it and weap. ;)
Lois Lane
P.S. I wish I could share a dinner outting with you but I also hardly ever get out.

 
Blogger Susie said...

CK, oh my gock. I thought of you yesterday when LG said OM something, sounded like God to me, but when I called her on it, both she and little friend said it was gosh, so I had to say, OK, since I can't hear the difference, just don't say either anymore. Good gock.

squirl, the thought of being Bucky's Sunday school teacher . . . the mind boggles. Could there be a more futile, more thankless task . . . ;)

mamaramma, you brave girl, you are the ONLY taker on the dinner with Spritz!

misfit, don't take the rules so seriously; you can say any doggone thing you want here! I could totally hang out with you. I have eaten out with an active alcoholic who barfed in the plate at the table, at a very shishi-poopoo restaurant. No pregnancy involved; just drunkenness. I have a couple of stories like that; they are, at least for now, under the category of those that cannot be told on this blog . . .

Bucky, I'm sure that's true. Just entering a blog with you means someone's about to be embarrassed. Seriously, though, you don't reveal VERY personal things on your blog. I mean, there was the tampon thing and the naked pictures in the mirror on your anniversary and . . . wait, lemme rethink this . . . No, really, I'm not joking, I think you are ingenious, because people THINK they know you . . . they don't know you. Squirl probably has the music appropriate to this comment, that would be Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, "If you don't know me by now . . . " I'm trying to figure out how to have a freakin' blogworld 40th birthday party for you. I'd be happy to host it here, but I'm too much of a techno-dunce to figure out how to do it. Hmmmm...

kranki, I must get some of those things to you . . . I will . . .

losc, thanks for the candy and the song. At least one of my clients knows about my blog. I think another may, as well, but she hasn't said so yet. The first found it by accident. It is a very small world. I try not to write anything that could have any effect on a client's treatment. Long-term clients know more about me than anyone who has read my entire blog. And they still don't know much. Except that I believe in putting out love into the world, and I believe in Jesus, and I believe you'd better learn to laugh at yourself, or you're not gonna make it. Anybody who knows anything at all about me knows those things :)

ern, great story. That one is totally worthy of a nickname for the dude!

john boy, welcome. Glad you enjoyed :)

greenie, A'ight. I find that certain people know things about me that certain others don't, although the second group may know things about me that the first doesn't . . . the blog, which everyone in my personal life knows about, blurs all those lines. I don't anticipate saying anything "behind anyone's back;" that's not my way. But I do treasure this as my break time. I don't want to be asked questions or have to mend fences because of something someone thinks they "hear" here. That makes sense in my head, I'm not sure if it does here on the screen. Plus I'm pretty fried tonight, not the sharpest knife in the drawer :p

Hey, lois, I told people because I was excited about it. And also because the blog actually evolved from the kinds of emails I had been sending to faraway friends in the past year or so. I had been telling elaborate stories with the hopes of making them laugh, and when they did, I started to think, hmmm, maybe someone else would want to read this, too. So some people who used to get long story emails from me, I just directed them to my blog when I started it. I also have a LOT of family who aren't online at all, or not on any regular basis. I'm sure I'd enjoy going out with you.

Speaking of such things, mrtl and I are fixin' to meet up in a day or two, for dinner. This breaks purty much every one of my rules that I established for myself when I started blogging, rules to ensure my privacy and anonymity (which I'm pretty much a freaky lunatic about). I sure hope mrtl isn't armed and dangerous or something like that . . .

 
Blogger Andrea said...

Similar to what I commented in mrtl's blog when I first heard about this...:

You're going to meet MRTL??? In PERSON??? I'm so jealous!!!! (Of course, what I told mrtl is that I was jealous of her that she was going to meet you. Actually I'm jealous of both of you :)

 
Anonymous Cuntway Titty said...

Susie, darlin', you said I was the only one from the blogworld you'd meet for dinner. Now ya cheatin' on me with this here Mrtl? Awwww, darlin', it makes my blood run just a little colder...

 
Blogger Susie said...

Aw Cuntway, don't take it so hard. They done drained your blood, honey, dontcha 'member? Now that you're a "spiritual" dude, you could just show up right there in the booth with us, you know? If you do, show us a sign ;)

 
Blogger Colleen said...

oh man! salmon moose! that's hilarious!! thanks for that. i don't think i have anything to top that!

 
Blogger Dawn said...

what am i doing here-it's 8:40 in the morning! I dont work till 1pm-this just shows the depth of my blogging addiction-yebba debba do-hey maybe i can catch a few cartoons-this blog is so addictive-and i mean that in a good way.

 
Blogger Susie said...

hi, colleen, so nice to see your dollface here:)

losc, someday soon there will be effective treatment for blog addiction; until then, enjoy:) (See you in rehab!)

 
Blogger It's Me, Maven... said...

I have a now-former friend Mz.Z, who ran off to have a gastric ring implant on her stomach to help lose weight. She did all of this without any kind of medical follow-up after the surgery. She did not do any kind of behavior mod, either. So she happily went about her life, gorging... that is until...

One day at work, she ate one too many bagels or tuna fish sandwiches, not sure which, and she suddenly took ill. Lightheaded and nauseated she headed to the ladies' room and promptly locked the door.

She then became a virtual vomit and feces volcano, violently errupting, so forcefully, so VOLUMINOUSLY, it left her suddenly dehydrated, delirious, and near-unconscious. She eventually had to be taken via EMTs to the hospital, that is, after the janitor was summoned, and she in all her vomitrocious feculessence was paraded past all her co-workers.

Did the explosively embarrassing workplace episode quell her gluttony? Sad to report: NO.

One of the last meals I had with her (when we were still speaking to one another), we went to Outback Steakhouse, or was it Lonestar? Does it matter?... She had been jonesin' for one of their big-assed sweet potatoes.

We ordered our entrees; hers was a shrimp skewer with rice pilaf and she special ordered the zeppelin sized sweet potato, which comes with about a 1/4 cup of cinnamon sugar and a 1/4 cup of butter. She ordered extra butter & extra cinnamon sugar.

As I sat across from her, she shovelling the pilaf into her piehole like there is no tomorrow, I replied, "Why are you filling up on the rice, when it's the sweet potato you really wanted?" With that, she stops, goes full-tilt-gorge on the sweet potato, and suddenly, gets that deer-caught-in-the-headlamps kinda look and shot out to the bathroom like a misguided missile. To do what? To do her vomit and feces volcano impersonation again.

Signed,
Happily dining solo these days,

 


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