I stayed in bed all weekend except when I had to take Alex to his quarter-finals basketball game (they won) on Saturday morning, and then to breakfast at Village Inn.
Ok, so what's with the most weird looking people who work at Village Inn? Have you EVER seen one normal person there? This time the weirdo-of-the-day was a husky woman with a long hair, but sides and back totally shaved. The second prize went to the host who seated us, and told everything about her younger brothers (I was there with Alex and Carsen). The joy of meeting somebody new. So, years ago, we went to Village Inn for breakfast, and we were seated so that I can totally see into the kitchen. Needless to say, I didn't like what went on in there. Before the waitress brought in our meals, she was snacking on our fries. From then on, we always request a table AWAY from the kitchen. I'm just not so interested in seeing how they mess with my food.
Rod came home on Saturday night from Mexico after missing his first flight. He brought a nice el recuerdo de la diarrea de México. How special indeed! We spent most of the Sunday in bed, coughing, sneezing, and running to the bathroom (not me). Today, I'm better and at work. Rod...not so much...Los saludos de México.
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2 comments:
Could have seen that one coming. I kind of figured that Rod would probably get some kind of something from you. Dang it. It is never fun to have a sick husband.
About Village Inn: You are so right! That is part of the reason I don't like to go out to eat period. I don't get to see what goes on behind the scenes. And, seriously, if you see a waitress munching on your fries when you are within eye-shot, what the heck are they doing when you aren't? Now, there is food for thought. YUCK!
That is why I prefer to make my own food. I know my hands are washed, there is no cross-contamination going on, and no grubby fingers are picking at the food. I am a bit too much of a germophobe!
Again, sorry Kristine.
Village Inn sounds like a perfect place for the game my friend, Utah, taught me, it is called, "Find a Freak" and basically, when you find out, you call out, "Found one!" I have even texted pictures to her of my victories!
Sometimes I feel a little bad about it, but most of the time I think - "well, what did YOU think people were going to think about you with your muffin top over your four sizes too small pants, cheechees hanging out the top, braless, tramp stamp stretched out and showing, thonged, hairy face, mullet self?"
I am sure there is an extra hot place in &%$# for people like me.
Also, that is SUPER GROSS about her eating your fries. Eck. Did you see the thing on the news about the lemon wedges for water and drinks? Great. Now I have to BYOL everywhere I go.
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