So we went to eat crab legs at Across the Creek Restaurant at Garfield last night – and let me tell you, we ATE some serious crab legs. We ate for two hours straight, and then I got sick. It was totally worth every last bite, though. You know the movie Matilda? Well at one point, a kid is forced to eat an entire chocolate cake (that would have fed the entire school). At first he’s totally fine, but after an hour or two, he starts looking a little dead?
It got so bad that I would crack open a leg and hold the luscious bite for about five minutes, just sitting there, looking like poor Bruce Boggtrotter (pictured above) before finally forcing it into my mouth, chewing, and swallowing.
Anyhow, my horrendous, barbaric eating habits are not the point of this post. This is another Ortego post. As we were leaving, Ortego told the cashier, “Thanks. Have a good night.”
And the cashier replied, “Have a nice weekend!”
Little did she know that this seemingly innocent reply would earn her the verbal bashing (out of her earshot, of course) of her life.
We left the restaurant and were walking back across the bridge to the car:
Ortego: Why the hell does she always have to one-up me like that?!
Ortego: The hostess! I said, “Have a nice night,” and she had to go and say “Have a nice weekend!” What the hell!!!
Ortego: And then I should have said, “Have a nice life!” But then she would have just said, “HAVE A NICE AFTERLIFE!” And then I would have shouted “BITCH!!!!!!”
I would have laughed a whole lot more, but my stomach gave an ominous gurgle at that point.