Soup...err...Seat Nazi
"No soup for you!"
The phrase made famous by the award winning Seinfeld episode kept popping up in my media-saturated brain. Only in our case, it would be "no seat for you".
Allow me to start at the beginning. This past Sunday, mom, dad, Erin, and I drove to the Baker's Square on the corner of 35W and 98th street for an "after church breakfast". Leif, Cyri, and college friend Rachael were going to meet us there.
The four of us arrived knowing we would have to wait about 10 minutes for Leif and company to arrive. We were prepared to wait since it was after church so we knew the place would be busy. We put in our name and number of people. Seven people. That's not so bad is it? Apparently it is.
As dad and I rested on the comfy vinal covered bench, Erin and mom stood talking expecting to be seated any moment. People (mainly the entire elderly population of Bloomington) came in after us and were immediately seated. The two very observant Eidsmoe men didn't take notice but Erin and mom were continually snubbed for a coveted seat. This happened for about 10 minutes before Erin said something. We were about to be seated when the morning manager came out of left field and shot us down.
"NO SEAT FOR YOU!" (Ok, so he didn't say it exactly like that but he might as well have.) When asked why...we didn't have our entire party with us. Huh? This is Baker's Square. It's not like they have four different salad forks. We told him we would order without the rest of our party but we were still shot down. (Now I know how Maverick felt when Goose died.) We couldn't do anything about it. After about 5 minutes of useless arguing, we left. (Ok Lord, how can I possibly use this inncident for your glory? I'm still waiting for an answer.)
Anyway, we ended up driving to Baker's Square's arch rival, the evil Perkins. We called Leif and let him know where to meet us. He could tell we weren't happy. Erin was quiet for the majority of the meal and the rest of us scarffed food like we were about to head to Ethiopia. (I think Erin was plotting some eloborate revenge scheme involving mice, fingernails, carpet swatches, and incandescant light bulbs.)
So here we are, Thursday afternoon, and I still can't believe it. Erin got the "Seat Nazi's" supervisor's name and number so I think she'll end up calling. Who knows. All I know is we are leaving the fuhrer alone and don't plan on visiting his camp anytime soon.
—b
The four of us arrived knowing we would have to wait about 10 minutes for Leif and company to arrive. We were prepared to wait since it was after church so we knew the place would be busy. We put in our name and number of people. Seven people. That's not so bad is it? Apparently it is.
As dad and I rested on the comfy vinal covered bench, Erin and mom stood talking expecting to be seated any moment. People (mainly the entire elderly population of Bloomington) came in after us and were immediately seated. The two very observant Eidsmoe men didn't take notice but Erin and mom were continually snubbed for a coveted seat. This happened for about 10 minutes before Erin said something. We were about to be seated when the morning manager came out of left field and shot us down.
"NO SEAT FOR YOU!" (Ok, so he didn't say it exactly like that but he might as well have.) When asked why...we didn't have our entire party with us. Huh? This is Baker's Square. It's not like they have four different salad forks. We told him we would order without the rest of our party but we were still shot down. (Now I know how Maverick felt when Goose died.) We couldn't do anything about it. After about 5 minutes of useless arguing, we left. (Ok Lord, how can I possibly use this inncident for your glory? I'm still waiting for an answer.)
Anyway, we ended up driving to Baker's Square's arch rival, the evil Perkins. We called Leif and let him know where to meet us. He could tell we weren't happy. Erin was quiet for the majority of the meal and the rest of us scarffed food like we were about to head to Ethiopia. (I think Erin was plotting some eloborate revenge scheme involving mice, fingernails, carpet swatches, and incandescant light bulbs.)
So here we are, Thursday afternoon, and I still can't believe it. Erin got the "Seat Nazi's" supervisor's name and number so I think she'll end up calling. Who knows. All I know is we are leaving the fuhrer alone and don't plan on visiting his camp anytime soon.
—b
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