By Grant McGee
The Lady of the House and I were dining at our favorite Asian food restaurant the other week. Getting my favorite dish, Thai barbecue chicken, had become a hit and miss affair.
“We only make up a batch a week,” said the proprietor. “So when it’s gone it’s gone until the next week.”
I had asked him when he ran out on this particular week.
“Just now,” he said. He nodded his head over his shoulder toward a couple sitting near the window. “She got the last of it.”
He walked away to take care of other customers.
I eyed the last of the Thai barbecue chicken as it sat in front of the woman near the window.
“I bet she’ll eat a bit and leave a lot,” I whispered to The Lady of the House. “I’m going over there. It’s real simple, I just say,
‘Excuse me, you have the last of the Thai barbecue chicken and it actually belongs to me.’”
I started to get up.
The Lady of the House gave me a wide-eyed look.
It wasn’t the first time I had arrived at our favorite Asian food restaurant to miss the last of the Thai barbecue chicken by moments.
A few months ago I ordered the delectable morsels of barbecued bird only to find out some guy with about a dozen other folks seated near us had ordered it.
He sat at the table complaining about this and that about my favorite dish.
“No tastebuds,” I said to The Lady of the House. “Bet he eats Cream of Wheat and scrambled eggs for breakfast.”
“Now dear,” she said, patting my hand.
So, what it comes down to is I just have to get to the restaurant early in the week if I want my Thai barbecue chicken.
Or get up the nerve to go swipe the last order of it from an unsuspecting diner.
Grant McGee is a long-time broadcaster and former truck driver who rides bicycles and likes to talk about his many adventures on the road of life. Contact him a his blog: grantmcgeewrites.com.