along with insects, weird things floating in the water, and chatty crazy people, i seem to attract food industry horror stories. i'm not sure if i perceive these horrors more often than other people because i'm a hyper-vigilant person, or if the restaurant gods are actually mischievous, but there it is: gross things happen when i try to eat out.
and it's funny because i've worked in the food industry. i'm very supportive of wait-staff. i never make a fuss or behave in a rude or obnoxious manner in restaurants, and i always tip at *least* 15%, so i can't imagine that it's restaurant karma. although... hm. i suppose it could be germ karma, since i am rather, um, shall we say, 'aware' of the ways in which potentially harmful microbes can be transfered....hm.
anyway, aside from the very ordinary assortment of discovered hairs, bugs, and incorrectly filled orders, the best story i have happened at subway. i ran in quickly on my busy, errand-filled lunch hour to grab a sandwich. i ordered. the woman nodded, and grabbed a pair of those plastic sanitary gloves that all subway workers wear to assure cleanliness. she put the gloves on, and stuck her left index finger deeply into her left nostril.
she stopped, suddenly aware of what she had done, her finger still buried up to the first knuckle, but safely protected from her own boogers by the plastic glove. she stared at me. i stared at her. the rest of the world came to a standstill, except for maybe one lone cricket sounding in the distance. time passed.
she stood transfixed, like an animal caught in the headlights of my awareness. it was like she suddenly realised that air is a two-way medium and that if she could see me, i could see her, and the cogs began to slowly grind to life as she tried to decide what to do.
should she apologise profusely, remove the finger, wash her hands, change gloves and just keep on apologising and offering me free stuff?
should she apologise, distract me with a few brain fart jokes and try to get me on her side as a fellow harried person who sometimes just did the craziest things, as she washed up and changed gloves, offering me free stuff?
or, should she pretend that nothing happened and carry on as normal?
evidently she chose the latter, because, keeping perfect, startled, eye-contact with me, she slowly removed her finger, and then slowly reached over to the bread i had requested and wrapped her fingers around it, preparing to cut it for my sandwich.
at this point i jumped about four inches in the air and squeaked something about having changed my mind as i bolted for the door. as i was leaving the manager rushed out from the back, grabbed the snot loaf and waved it in the air as she shouted, "i'll make it for you! i'll make it for you!"
not to be thus reassured i was already out the door and halfway down the street.
and, you know, this is just the tip of a giant iceberg of restaurant stories that i have. most people are incredulous when they hear claims that before we die we eat two pounds each of stranger-drool, insects, hair, and rat turds, but i totally believe it.
4 comments:
just for the record, i want everyone to know that Anna has amassed countless stories like this one but unfortunately she has only shared them orally with a select few. share them all Anna! blog away!
~j
really? her finger right up her nose? and then continues to make your sandwich? i want to hear more gross stories! (speaking of gross, i was recently a judge at a junior high science fair, and one girl's scientific conclusion was, no joke, "coke has more gross stuff in it than pepsi.")
yes really. her finger right up her nose. staring at me. it was surreal. i've also seen a fat, sweaty sushi chef repeatedly pop straggling bits of fish into his mouth when they didn't fit into the maki he was making. i've seen a mouse murdered by a sandwichboard wielding maniac chef, and i've seen a cook take great big long slurps from the ladel in the giant miso soup pot from whence all patrons' soup comes. (this was the same place as where the fat, sweaty, hungry sushi chef worked and it became known amongst my coworkers and i from then on as "Spit 'n' Drool". as in, "hey man, where ya going for lunch today?" reply: "Oh, Spit 'n' Drool. Want something?")
as for the teenager's scientifical beverage conclusions, i'm at least mildly encouraged that she actually knows there's "gross stuff" in pop at all. is she leggy and blond and rich? if she is, maybe she could host a science segment in paris hilton's show, or something, and bring science to the bejewelled and brainless elite?
I recently alarmed my schweetie over here by informing her that "Gross" in English means "Disgusting" (in German, as Anna knows, it means "Big" or "Tall")
So you kept eating at the "spit and drool" eh?? Was the food really good, or cheap, or nearby, or what?
Post a Comment