Things Could Be Worse, You Could Be Ugly & Clean Septic Tanks

We seem to be getting a bit of wind and a little rain here in our Longhorn City. Hurricanes have not been a bother to us being so far north inland, but we do get residuals.

Speaking of leftovers. . .

Since the husband had yesterday off, but due to stoopid schedulers scheduling a full night beforehand he had to sleep all day, he took me out to dinner at one of our favorite local jaunts. A happy Texaconsin Diva I was! We actually got to sit down and enjoy our time, ordering sporadically the appetizers, the salads, the main courses and the desserts. Let us not forget the wine either. Of course there was wine, are you crazy? Four-and-a-half hours we got to eat, drink and take in awesome conversation with one another. It was all very European-like and super fantastic.

Tables came and went all around us. We were in our own world and occasionally, as it goes when you sit too close to someone, one might have occasion to "walk the dog" as the husband and I call it. So, here we are enjoying our time, when - for the sake of being polite, let's call them girls - came in for a table of eight. Already completely inappropriately dressed (a bit of Diva advice here: I realize you don't speak Prada and this is okay - it's not a common language, but and even more important is the fact that less is not necessarily more) and obnoxious, they ordered, they ate and they drank. Fine. Such is life at a restaurant.

In doing so; however, they must have a person who takes their orders. Our favorite guy was unfortunately assigned to this gaggle of wretchedness.

Some time later I heard, "So, like, do we get the hurricane refugee discount? Cause, I like, am a ref-you-geee." Which left our waiter man as well as myself completely and utterly flabbergasted. Composing himself, he replied in his perfectly delectable Italian accent, "I don't know. I'd have to check. Are you are a hurricane refugee?" Her friends chimed in with a resounding "yes!" Then she continued, "I can show you my I-Dee. It says I live in Tenness-eee, but I like live in Lou-eee-si-anaaah."

***blink, blink***

The girl did get out of paying her bill when clearly she was not a refugee of this current hurricane. Seriously. I would like to know why you seem to think that if you cannot pay your bill why you would eat out? And then, on top of that, play the whole "a hurricane ruined my life card" when you are not that person? I am overwhelmingly sure Beelzebub has a special place in his broken down palace waiting for you.

The husband and I left a couple hours later and we offered to pay her unpaid bill, but we were given complimentary port instead.