ME: DO YOU HAVE CLUB SODA?
Server: Umm, no. What's club soda?
Me: Water with bubbles.
Server: Soda water?
Me: Yes, that's right.
Server: Yes, we have that.
Me: May I have one with a lime twist?
Server: What's that?
Me: Just put a wedge of lime on the rim of the glass.
Server: Oh, we don't have any lime.
Me: Lemon?
Server: No, sorry.
Me (panting from thirst): Do you have coconut water?
Server: No, we don't serve coconut water. We have fresh juices–tangerine, orange, pineapple...
Me: No coconut water? But there is a coconut vendor right around the corner.
Server: Cherry, grapefruit...
Me: Just a glass of water, please. And I will have the corn soup.
Server: Oh, the soup not ready yet.
Me (looking at watch which reads 11.45): Could you ask the kitchen when it will be ready. I really wanted soup today.
Server (returning after a few minutes): The chef says he doesn't know.
Me (remembering there is never an excuse for rudeness): Let's see, how about the fish?
Server: Actually, we are still on the breakfast menu.
Me (all etiquette lost through shock effect): Whaaaaat?
Server: And no fish today, sorry. Except codfish and bread, from the breakfast menu.
Me (squeaking in hunger): But it's on the menu blackboard at the entrance.
Server: Oh, that was from yesterday.
Me: So it's just there to torment hungry people?
Server (shouting to colleague): Glen-daaaaa! Rub off the board, please.
Me: So when does lunch begin?
Server: Well, I suppose...I eh really know but soon. Just now. Things kinda hectic today.
Me: Grrrrrr.
By the time I crawled down the steps of the bistro (an exaggerated and pompous application of the word) my eyes were salty orbs. Hunger was kicking me in the head, and I had difficulty forming compound sentences. I never got the glass of water, so the Excedrin remained in my sweaty palm.
Battle-worn as I am, having dined in restaurants; at lunch counters; and at roadside shacks on four continents and nearly every island in the English-speaking Caribbean, I still have not become used to the idea that ordering a meal can be a competitive sport requiring training in diplomacy and negotiation. Not to mention sheer stamina, of the degree acquired by astronauts and hostage retrieval experts.
Here is my so-hungry-I-could-faint lunch recipe which you can whip up even at your desk (not really but you can have your Martha Stewart fantasies). Never be caught again in the twilight zone of bad customer service when the noontime hours are dangerously close and all you had for breakfast was a gulp of green tea.
You'll need a small buttery zaboca (healthy fat which helps produce feeling of fullness), a dash of salt, sprinkle of black pepper, lettuce or baby spinach, lemon juice, drizzle of olive oil; chive and parsley seasoning; garam masala; chicken breast. Season the chicken breast, rub well with garam masala, coat with olive oil, and grill or bake; then shred. Toss with lettuce or baby spinach, olive oil, black pepper, and teaspoon of lemon juice (try pineapple juice for a sweeter less tangy effect). Add chunks of zaboca. Or you can try orange pegs or mango slices, provided your pancreas is working properly and you are not watching your blood sugar.
Optional: add crumbled Crix crackers for the crunch, which is a whole lot faster and simpler than croutons.
Join me for a virtual lunch at wrenchelsa@hotmail.com