Last night I went to my guitar class at McCabe’s Guitar Shop in Santa Monica. For those who don’t know the stretch of Pico Boulevard where the store is located, for some reason it has suddenly gone all Lower Manhattan, and finding a parking place is just about impossible. Didn’t use to be that way.
However, I digress. So I park about a block away from the shop, across the street from a a very cool coffeehouse where they serve food. It’s about 7:20, or 40 minutes to class time. I go in and wait to order. The kid at the counter says, “yeah?”, and I order a Caesar salad with chicken, and hot green tea. The way they do it there is, you pay for your food at the counter and then they bring it to you. So I tell him I’m sitting in the back part of the coffeehouse.
I sip my tea and wait. About 10 minutes later, he comes in bearing a bowl. I look up the way my cats do when they hear the snap and crackle of the treat bag, but he says it’s chili for someone else. (There are very few people in the place to begin with). I wait about 10 more minutes, and now time is getting tight. Lesson time is only 20 minutes away, so I go up front to ask if my salad will be ready soon. He says “yeah”–might have been an impatient spin there but I wasn’t paying that much attention. But I figured that it normally doesn’t take 20 minutes to get a salad, and I was worried lest my order had been forgotten. It’s been known to happen.
A few minutes later he comes out bearing my salad and says, "here’s your salad! and hands it to me rather than setting it in front of me.
And the salad in front of me turns out to be tuna, not chicken…fortunately OK for me since I like one as well as the other.
What do you all think of this?
