“i’m sorry, we are sold out of the wings.” the waitress told us.
during this festive christmas season, i am working all night and the hubby is working all day. we decided we needed to go out on a date.
being raised in a religion that you do not shop, enjoy cinematic events, or enter a restaurant on sunday, AND given that we live in a state that is predominately filled with people who share the same religious upbringing, we felt sunday would be the best bet for us to go out as the establishments for all things entertaining are entertainingly empty.
that, and we had a gift card AND a coupon from my uber savvy shopping hubby. (couponing is also a religious upbringing, little known, but there.)
now i can bring you into the earlier written conversation.
“what do you mean you are sold out of wings? how do you sell out of wings? it is your signature appetizer right next to the bloomin’ onion?” i asked incredulously.
“i know, we had a large party come in and order the last of them.” she said while giving the eye point so we could see who had just stolen the only happiness in my life.
“no, really, how do you sell out of wings.” i asked again hoping she was lying.
the hubby and i just sat and stared at each other.
“i could get you something else.” she offered.
“we only come for your wings. we have been waiting for these wings.” i was desperately trying to explain.
“we should just leave.” the hubby said. i was too busy glaring at the large party enjoying the wings that had just been delivered to listen. the hubby has literally had a glass of water spilled on him by a waitress before and we just laughed. being told they were sold out of wings, we were willing to try to get someone fired.
no one understands wing love.
“we are being punished by God.”
“no, it is gluttony, i hope they choke on a chicken bone.” i said.
we ate the rest of our dinner listening to the group laugh, talk loudly, and lick their fingers, never realizing that two tables away, goat sacrifices were being made to curse their family for all eternity.