A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Back to the Table.

A few weeks ago, we hit our local Steak 'n Shake for dinner after home group on a Sunday. Chick was out gallivanting with the girls of the youth group and had her dinner taken care of so she didn't join us.

Steak 'n Shake is one of the few places we regularly visit. In addition to the fact that we like their simple menu and good service, they constantly are putting coupons out and having specials. So Hubby is a fan and the rest of us enjoy it too.

We had a different experience this time though. They were slightly busier than usual when we got there so the manager was a little brusque as he seated us. We waved it off for the most part but then discovered that the table we had been seated at was smallish. In fact, we could barely handle it.

I am claustrophobic. I always have been. I still have a very distinct memory of having to get out of one of those tunnel playground toys that all the kids were lining up inside of so I could sit on the end. I can still remember the panic that set in when two other kids got on the side of me and started blocking the exit. While I can handle things like elevators all right, I do not handle feeling trapped at all well. I think the reason I can deal with elevators and such is because I am pragmatic enough to recognize that it is only going to last a few minutes.

On the other hand, sitting to eat a meal with a table edge 2 inches from my chest is not something I can handle well. And it wasn't as if Hubby was hogging all the room. He only had about 2 inches as well. We made it through but we won't be sitting at that table again. (The situation was more aggravating because he had seated a couple at the same time who sat on the same side of a huge booth.)

So there we sat, dealing with it, and not real impressed with the busy waitress who was somewhat ignoring us as well. It was definitely a different experience than we were used to.

And for the first time, it took FOREVER to get our food. I don't know what they were doing back there or why but we, including Rugrat, had decided we weren't getting fed that night. By the time we left, I think Hubby pointed out that we had been there an hour and a half which never happens.

And, then, it finally arrived.

Without silverware or napkins.

We can make it without silverware (it was all sandwiches and fries). We can't make it without napkins. So Hubby decided to go get some rather than attempting to catch the waitress' attention for 15 minutes.

He went to the register and requested them. The counter is an 'L' shaped thing. At the corner of the 'L' is a small display of products for sale and the register sits right next to it on the short part of the 'L.' As Hubby turned away from the register with a hand full of napkins, here came a server with a tray full of chicken strips, fries, and drinks around the corner. He was moving very fast -- I assume because of the way all the food was taking so long to get done -- and he never saw Hubby there thanks to the product display.

Soda and food went everywhere. All eyes turned to them.

Hubby apologized profusely as did the waiter. And then they both made strategic retreats. Another employee appeared and began cleaning it up as Hubby returned to our table with a distinctly pink tint.

Our waitress finally woke up and stopped at our table on her way to someone else's to check that he was okay. As she walked away, I tried to assure Hubby that it probably happens a lot more than we think.

My assurances were negated, though, by Dude's comment to Rugrat: "Hurry up and eat, kid. We gotta leave before the police get here."

The waiter came over later to make sure we were all good. His attitude was so wonderful. He was laughing about it and joking. He never got angry or upset. It definitely put Hubby at ease.

Not so at ease that he would go pay the check. I had to do that. He refused to go near the register again that quickly.

And he checked when we left to make sure I wanted him to drive.

It will probably be a few more weeks before we go back. I'm not sure he's gotten over it yet. When we do, I have the distinct feeling we'll be asking to sit on the other side of the room too.