Night Out
So tonight, we went out for dinner, at some steak place.
It was really pretty good steak, actually. Finally, somewhere that makes a steak rare enough for me.
"Let it look at the oven in terror, and then bring it out to me."
Eoma, Daddy and I all got steak, Audrey got grilled cheese, and Ben got chicken tenders. So we're all enjoying our food, when I see something out of the corner of my eye, a quick little blur, on the floor.
I stopped chewing, and put a hand over my mouth.
Audrey blanched.
"Oh my God, a mouse!"
Of course, the table next to us heard her, and no sooner had she spoken, than one of the guys at the next table does what I've decided all big, ripped college guys must do in such moments...
He leapt up onto his chair, peering anxiously under the table.
"A MOUSE?! Are you fucking kidding? Omigod dude, I HATE mice!"
At this point, I'm trying not to laugh, Eoma's trying to get Audrey to quiet down, Daddy is openly snickering, Ben is looking around, trying to figure out what's going on, and the waitress is looking truly, and utterly mortified.
The furry little culprit wanders calmly into another corner, away from the brave college stud, blushing waitress, and my now quite embarrassed sister. Within a few minutes, the manager comes out, apologizing profusely, explaining that he'd never seen a mouse here before, the little guy probably just came in because of the cold etc. etc. etc. (This is the first day the weather has warranted a jacket so far.) He assured us the problem was being taken care of.
Sure enough, a cook with long hair, numerous piercings, and latex gloves covering his hands comes to capture the dangerous beast.
We were all laughing, at this point. I mean, the dude was crouched down, in the middle of the lobby, hands held out like he was about to pounce on this mouse.
But the mouse was smarter. It scooted around the corner, into a booth, and right past a lady's foot. She had kicked off her sandals, and was barefoot. Luckily, she didn't notice. Her boyfriend glanced down, frowned, but didn't say anything. The cook with the protective latex gloves gave up, so as not to alert them, if they didn't already know. By now, the college kids (brave buff one included) had moved to another table.
Mouse: 3
Humans: 0
Go homo sapiens! Opposable thumbs only get us so far, I guess.
So the rest of the evening was spent watching the waitress carefully track the mouse, and comforting my sister (who'd burst into tears, embarrassed that she caused a fuss) and laughing openly, or behind our hands.
The manager gave us several cards for free desserts "next time we come" and $30 off our meal.
In comparison to the whole Mt. Hebron High's rat blunder, this was handled quite gracefully.
By the time we left, the mouse had made it all the way across the room, and was hiding under a table in another large booth.
It was really pretty good steak, actually. Finally, somewhere that makes a steak rare enough for me.
"Let it look at the oven in terror, and then bring it out to me."
Eoma, Daddy and I all got steak, Audrey got grilled cheese, and Ben got chicken tenders. So we're all enjoying our food, when I see something out of the corner of my eye, a quick little blur, on the floor.
I stopped chewing, and put a hand over my mouth.
Audrey blanched.
"Oh my God, a mouse!"
Of course, the table next to us heard her, and no sooner had she spoken, than one of the guys at the next table does what I've decided all big, ripped college guys must do in such moments...
He leapt up onto his chair, peering anxiously under the table.
"A MOUSE?! Are you fucking kidding? Omigod dude, I HATE mice!"
At this point, I'm trying not to laugh, Eoma's trying to get Audrey to quiet down, Daddy is openly snickering, Ben is looking around, trying to figure out what's going on, and the waitress is looking truly, and utterly mortified.
The furry little culprit wanders calmly into another corner, away from the brave college stud, blushing waitress, and my now quite embarrassed sister. Within a few minutes, the manager comes out, apologizing profusely, explaining that he'd never seen a mouse here before, the little guy probably just came in because of the cold etc. etc. etc. (This is the first day the weather has warranted a jacket so far.) He assured us the problem was being taken care of.
Sure enough, a cook with long hair, numerous piercings, and latex gloves covering his hands comes to capture the dangerous beast.
We were all laughing, at this point. I mean, the dude was crouched down, in the middle of the lobby, hands held out like he was about to pounce on this mouse.
But the mouse was smarter. It scooted around the corner, into a booth, and right past a lady's foot. She had kicked off her sandals, and was barefoot. Luckily, she didn't notice. Her boyfriend glanced down, frowned, but didn't say anything. The cook with the protective latex gloves gave up, so as not to alert them, if they didn't already know. By now, the college kids (brave buff one included) had moved to another table.
Mouse: 3
Humans: 0
Go homo sapiens! Opposable thumbs only get us so far, I guess.
So the rest of the evening was spent watching the waitress carefully track the mouse, and comforting my sister (who'd burst into tears, embarrassed that she caused a fuss) and laughing openly, or behind our hands.
The manager gave us several cards for free desserts "next time we come" and $30 off our meal.
In comparison to the whole Mt. Hebron High's rat blunder, this was handled quite gracefully.
By the time we left, the mouse had made it all the way across the room, and was hiding under a table in another large booth.