Work was hell yesterday. Not only is there a ridiculous after-Christmas sale going on, but everyone decided yesterday afternoon was a good time to get rid of their possessions. The buying area had mounds of books waiting to be purchased by the store, and sellers had to wait 45 minues before anyone could get to their stuff. Insanity, I tell you.
On top of that, the most ridiculous questions kept coming in. For example:
"Where is your true fiction section?"
"I'm looking for a book about the history of cameras. It's orange. Do you know where it might be?"
"Do you have [popular book that's only been out for two days, which is certainly not at a used bookstore already]?"
The phones aren't working right, either, so by the end of the day, I was wiped. Spousal Unit didn't have to fight very hard to talk me into the Market Street Diner. We checked their menu to be sure they had veggie options, and to our surprise, they had many good choices, like walnut burgers, delightfully veggie omelets, and an exciting grilled cheese option with provolone, spinach, and tomatoes. We hopped in the car and headed out for an adventure.
Upon arrival, we gawked at all the wonderful pies and cakes on display before sitting to look at the menu. I'd decided back at home that I wanted a walnut cheeseburger with fries, but I perused anyway, noting that their salads, of all things, were the only section on the menu without a meat-free option. But I shrugged and went with it, as there were so many other good things to choose from.
When the server came to take our order, I excitedly requested the cheeseburger with a walnut patty, eager to try something new and delicious to take the edge off a stressful day. Plus, french fries. And then: disaster.
"Actually, we're out of walnut burgers, cheddar cheese, and waffle fries," she apologized sheepishly.
Out of all that stuff? I couldn't stand it. I couldn't keep it in anymore. I'd used all my restraint earlier to keep from telling customers what I really thought of them, and my frustration just bubbled over and spewed out of me.
"NOOO!" I smacked the menu viciously against the table, shaking our water glasses and rattling the silverware. "This is the worst day ever!"
Then I came back to myself. It was almost as if I'd just had an out-of-body experience and watched an alien presence dictate my actions. I bit my lip and shrank down in my seat, feeling a bit like Snoopy after he'd been caught dancing on Schroeder's piano. I smiled guiltily to let the server know it wasn't really that bad.
Luckily, I hadn't freaked her out too much. "Well, if this makes it the worst day ever, you're having a pretty good day," she pointed out.
I laughed and agreed. We took a few more minutes to order, choosing breakfast food with regular french fries instead of burgers with waffle fries. We still couldn't really wrap our heads around what had happened. Half the reason we went out was to try the walnut burgers, and having no cheese on the menu meant our options were extremely limited. How does a Wisconsin diner let itself run out of cheese?
But the part Spousal Unit couldn't wrap his head around was my bold outburst. I apologized to the server in case I'd been too over-the-top earlier, though Spousal Unit insisted my tantrum was adorable - like Snoopy.
Though I think it's just his job to say things like that.