Tuesday, July 31, 2007


We do these welcome lunches here at work. New employees join the firm and we - reps from HR, IT, Recruiting & Marketing - take them to lunch the first day to get 'em acclimated.

It's nice. But it's not OUTSTANDING!

Let me explain. Yesterday, we went to the Grand Lux Cafe at Michigan and Ohio -- it's got that contrived elegance of an upscale-ish chain, but the food is good.

"I'll have a Diet Coke," I say to the actor/waiter, who is bouncing at the end of our table.

"OUTSTANDING!" he replies.

Outstanding? Diet Coke? Is outstanding?

No. No. No.

Outstanding is a naked oily massage administered by that dude who plays Sawyer from Lost.

Outstanding is NOT Diet Coke.

What's your definition of outstanding?
I am listening to: Smashing Pumpkins - 1979
I am reading: Between books still
And I am: Outstanding!


trickyhogg said...

There is only 1 thing in life that is OUTSTANDING! And I know, that ALL of you are thinking the same thing as me.

Mom said...

Sex & a naked massage, that is all you young ones think about. Outstanding to me at my age would be not letting a wet fart at the church picnic. Now that is outstanding. :)

Hedy said...

See what we have to look forward to in 20 years, Tricky? :)

Dave said...

"EXCELLENT CHOICE SIR!" I get in response to my order of a generic lunch somewhere, that escapes me, that is kind of upscale. I just remembered, the Capital Grille, in Buckhead, Atlanta, Georgia. When did grill get the "e?"

I felt like, but resisted, thanking the waiter for the compliment.

Good thing, as half-way through lunch I heard him say to the lady at a nearby table, you get the idea.

Not to go into the naked, oily thing; but, is it safe to trust an excalmation from a naked, oily person, just after the naked and oily stuff led to, you get idea?

Mom, don't read this. Oh, that should go at the top.

Posolxstvo said...

There are two of us at the table at PF Changs. The waiter, looking at neither of us, but instead at some unspecified point above our heads, or possibly between us on the cushion we're leaning against, asks "Would anyone care for anything else?"

He just brought our food and our drinks. What could we possibly want in addition? The head of a powerful warlord on a salver?

The first time it happened, it was comical. The second time - same waiter, different table - it was disturbing.

I quit my only waitering job ever after the first day when I realized that I just wasn't likely to be very successful at it. (The Tchochkies scenes in Office Space give me hives.) Sounds like a bunch of other people are still waiting for their own unique epiphanies of the same sort.