I took Taylor to Tae Kwon Do class this evening, as per our usual routine. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the last thing to do on a very long To-Do list for today. You see, I tried to get a little more than usual accomplished before Tae Kwon Do time this evening. I was, however, so intent on accomplishing said tasks that I ended up tasking myself right out of a decent meal. The whole day's intake for me through class time consisted of 2 bites of a muffin, several quarts of water and ten Tic Tac mints that I scrounged out of the bottom of my purse during class (when I finally realized I was STARVING).
Class finished at 6:45 p.m. Rather than fend off a hypoglycemic episode on the 20-minute drive home, I finally caved to Taylor's request to eat dinner at Pizza Hut. She's been asking me for forever to go to Pizza Hut and use the several 'free Personal Pan Pizza' coupons she earned for her reading efforts at school and in the summer reading program at the local library. Even though I am in no way a fan of Pizza Hut, I was hungry enough to eat a dead rat out of a homeless person's underwear. So, it really wasn't a choice as much as it was desperation coupled with the fact that a Pizza Hut is directly across the parking lot from ATA Family Martial Arts.
Apparently, when we walked into Pizza Hut just before 7 p.m., everyone else in the state of Colorado decided to order pizza delivered from this particular Pizza Hut restaurant. And you know that thing about 30-minutes-or-less-to-your-door-or-its free? Well, that same rule does not apply IN ANY WAY when you are a dine-in customer. From the time we ordered our food, it took 87 minutes to arrive at our table. And we were the only people in the restaurant.
Why wait so long? Well, in retrospect, that's an excellent question with no logical answer. All I can say is Taylor was very willing and I was out-of-my-mind hungry.
My increasing crabbiness should have been a great forewarning of what was about to ensue, but it wasn't. The last half hour of waiting I spent breaking several personal codes of conduct and shamelessly blaming my daughter for my degenerate behavior because she just couldn't live without having a Personal Pan pepperoni pizza for dinner.
What happened? Well, I went a little postal on the salad bar. At first, I went over to get a couple packs of crackers. I felt entitled to something. For the love of God, we'd been waiting for an hour. I hadn't eaten all day long. While I knew that was my own fault, I also knew that I would not stand for being deprived for very much longer! Can't the fools tell I am absolutely beyond famished??? For some reason, when that first cracker touched my tongue, it was like setting off an explosion in my head. A feeding frenzy ensued that, quite frankly, was as disturbing as it was uncontrollable.
I consumed an entire bin of celery sticks and two bowls of watermelon chunks. I absolutely despise watermelon. Didn't matter. I took the crouton bowl out of the salad bar and ate them at my table like popcorn out of a bucket. I stuffed fistfulls of olives into my mouth and I drank salad dressing like shots of Jack Daniels. I came up for air 15 minutes later to see Brendyn standing at the table with a pizza, looking at me like I was from Mars. I handed back the crouton bowl, looked at the pizza, then looked him square in the eye and said, "Can we get that to go?" I have to give him credit. He said not one word.
10 minutes later we were driving home, Taylor eating free pizza out of a box in the back seat of the car and Brendyn still standing at the cash register at Pizza Hut, wondering if I'd made a mistake or really meant to give him a $20 tip on a $0 ticket. :)
Kristin
Class finished at 6:45 p.m. Rather than fend off a hypoglycemic episode on the 20-minute drive home, I finally caved to Taylor's request to eat dinner at Pizza Hut. She's been asking me for forever to go to Pizza Hut and use the several 'free Personal Pan Pizza' coupons she earned for her reading efforts at school and in the summer reading program at the local library. Even though I am in no way a fan of Pizza Hut, I was hungry enough to eat a dead rat out of a homeless person's underwear. So, it really wasn't a choice as much as it was desperation coupled with the fact that a Pizza Hut is directly across the parking lot from ATA Family Martial Arts.
Apparently, when we walked into Pizza Hut just before 7 p.m., everyone else in the state of Colorado decided to order pizza delivered from this particular Pizza Hut restaurant. And you know that thing about 30-minutes-or-less-to-your-door-or-its free? Well, that same rule does not apply IN ANY WAY when you are a dine-in customer. From the time we ordered our food, it took 87 minutes to arrive at our table. And we were the only people in the restaurant.
Why wait so long? Well, in retrospect, that's an excellent question with no logical answer. All I can say is Taylor was very willing and I was out-of-my-mind hungry.
The first half hour of waiting I spent quaffing large amounts of water and Diet Coke. The next half hour of waiting I spent drooling over the salad bar contents, which were exactly 3 feet from me, and continuously reassuring Brendyn (our 14-year old waiter and low man on the Pizza Hut totem pole) that no, really, it's okay, we'll wait, no problem. Oh, they dropped the bread sticks again? Well, okay, are they coming any time today? 5 minutes? Okay. What? They burned the pasta? (How in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks do you burn macaroni???) SIGH. Okay. Are we going to get anything we ordered anytime tonight? Brendyn said YES Ma'am, and it's FREE. I looked at Taylor and asked, "Can we go home? Pleeeeeeeeeease?......... No? Well, fine. We'll wait for your pizza. And just so you know, it's the last one you're ever going to eat from Pizza Hut. EVER."
My increasing crabbiness should have been a great forewarning of what was about to ensue, but it wasn't. The last half hour of waiting I spent breaking several personal codes of conduct and shamelessly blaming my daughter for my degenerate behavior because she just couldn't live without having a Personal Pan pepperoni pizza for dinner.
What happened? Well, I went a little postal on the salad bar. At first, I went over to get a couple packs of crackers. I felt entitled to something. For the love of God, we'd been waiting for an hour. I hadn't eaten all day long. While I knew that was my own fault, I also knew that I would not stand for being deprived for very much longer! Can't the fools tell I am absolutely beyond famished??? For some reason, when that first cracker touched my tongue, it was like setting off an explosion in my head. A feeding frenzy ensued that, quite frankly, was as disturbing as it was uncontrollable.
I consumed an entire bin of celery sticks and two bowls of watermelon chunks. I absolutely despise watermelon. Didn't matter. I took the crouton bowl out of the salad bar and ate them at my table like popcorn out of a bucket. I stuffed fistfulls of olives into my mouth and I drank salad dressing like shots of Jack Daniels. I came up for air 15 minutes later to see Brendyn standing at the table with a pizza, looking at me like I was from Mars. I handed back the crouton bowl, looked at the pizza, then looked him square in the eye and said, "Can we get that to go?" I have to give him credit. He said not one word.
10 minutes later we were driving home, Taylor eating free pizza out of a box in the back seat of the car and Brendyn still standing at the cash register at Pizza Hut, wondering if I'd made a mistake or really meant to give him a $20 tip on a $0 ticket. :)
Kristin