The Penalty Box

I had to attend a family lunch today.  There are good ones and bad ones.  Today was one of the bad ones.  I don’t mean “bad” as in “ZOMG FAMILY DRAMA” but more “bad” as in “kill me out of boredom, please.”  All of my cousins didn’t show, so I was the only “kid” there, so to speak.  Thinking ahead, I brought along my DS in case my cousins decided to cop out (which they did).  Unfortunately, the boredom gods were spiteful today, and the battery on my DS died.  As a result, I had to give more free computer advice to my uncle, who by all account should never be allowed to use one.  Ever.  He keeps buying things like Norton Internet Security when his son tells him not to and he wonders why his computer slows to a crawl.  It’s one of those times where you want to say “listen to those who know more than you and stop being a dumbass” but you can’t.
The choice of restaurant was not a good one either (Earl’s).  Of all the western style restaurants listed above “fast food,” Earl’s seems to have the least selection.  They had more wine selections than food selections, which says something.  The food took almost an hour to arrive, from order time to serving, and the waitress forgot something as simple as water.  Also, apparently finding change was a difficult exercise as well.  Is “subtraction” a skill not required for being in food service?

It was not just the restaurant that made the experience unpleasant.  My uncle, the same one that shouldn’t be allowed to use a computer, is a rather picky eater.  However, he refuses to actually read the menu.  He ordered a seafood pasta, which is somewhat of a misnomer on the part of Earl’s because it mostly contains salmon.  This is outlined quite clearly in the menu, but he didn’t read it and decided to complain there was too much salmon when it arrived.  He had the foresight to ask if the sauce was alfredo, because he’s semi-allergic to tomatoes, and the waitress told him it was a mix of tomato and alfredo.  He ordered it anyways.  He complained about that when it arrived too.  Of course, this was done out of the earshot of the waitress, because he’s a passive aggressive complainer like that.  Another “please shut up” moment in which I couldn’t say “please shut up.”

A little over two hours after arriving at the restaurant, we dispersed to head home.  That’s the average time for most family lunches like this, but this time even the food didn’t make up for the length and the complaints of my uncle.  And I still had to finish off what my grandmother couldn’t finish.  Because I’m still a growing boy and all.

Sometimes there are advantages to being flaky and disappearing from family events.