Epicurian Musings With Myrna

Hello dear readers, it’s Myrna, back again to share some of her pontifical wisdom with each and all!
As I sat down to write this timely tome, I felt it my duty to share some of the insights that had come my way since last we chatted! And to let you know that one can digest fifteen bottles of Pepto-Bismol if need be!! My husband Gunther was such a darling throughout the entire episode! Not once did he complain about the noises (that was very reminiscent of Linda Blair in the “Exorcist”), that emitted from the depths of my bowels during one particularly startling episode! Such a dear, dear man! Never let it be said that Myrna is one to hold back!! Speaking of which, how did such a thing occur, you ask? Well, my darlings, read on!
As you know, Myrna is never one to avoid danger. So, I set out to experience some of the epicurean delights that await each and every one of you, should you so choose to indulge, here in our little hamlet. As I was motoring about our city the other day, during the luncheon rush hour, my best friend Hermione, with whom I’ve come to experience so many diversities, convinced me we should stop in at a local “steakhouse”. Oh, you know the one. Sounds like they were going to name it something else, but didn’t have enough space on the marquee to put the entire name, so they just put random letters together and called it a name. Anyway, against my innermost better judgment I let Hermione convince me that it would be such an “adventure” to see exactly just what was the allure to the establishment. After all the entire parking lot was filled with cars (actually, mostly white pick-up trucks). So, in we went. I should have listened to the advice that my mother, Bunny DeForde, gave me years ago, when she said; “Never believe what they tell you about stopping where truck drivers eat. It can only lead to years of therapy and marriages gone sour”, but I digress.
Once inside, it took my eyes a moment to adjust. Oh, no dear ones, it wasn’t from the fact that we had just entered from an intensely lighted noontide to enter what seemed to be a darkened grotto, but by the “interesting” décor that greeted us. I especially liked the “backlit” sign that said we could “seat ourselves.” How gracious I thought. And so we proceeded. It was then I noticed what must have been the central adornment of “worship” in the eatery. There, moving about in a zombie like procession, as if transfixed in a hypnotic trance, were the “worshipers” of this idol. A mammoth monolith, that occupied the center of the restaurant like a Bhudda. The SALAD BAR! With their platters raised high, each of the crowd moved about the offerings, with eyes blazing. Hermione and I quickly found an empty table and started to sit down. It was then the adventure really got interesting. Let Myrna, state right here and now, that she is a firm believer that there is never, never any reason to think less of a person because they are in the service industry. That being said, our “waitperson” was soon with us.
It was soon apparent that our “waitperson” neither wanted to be with us, or with anyone else in the establishment, for that matter. Dour hardly seems sufficient. Quinine would have been sweeter! I don’t know, but I think there is something inherently wrong with you being asked what you would like to drink before you’ve had a chance to seat one’s self and perchance glance at a menu. “A white wine”, I heard myself say. I presume that was not the correct response because, as I was soon to learn, they “ain’t got no wines”, only sodas, teas, and water. Hermione smiled weakly. We ordered water. “With lemon,” I heard Hermione say faintly as our “waitperson” disappeared into the vastness of humanity.
We then started to peruse our menus. If it’s one thing Myrna enjoys, it is the “fun” names eateries give to their dishes. I was especially intrigued by the one called “The BIG One”, but I thought better of it. In what was a matter of moments, well actually twenty of them, our “waitperson” arrived back at our table , water in tow. And by “in tow” I mean, if she had put more of her body parts into our glasses, it would have been considered a Baptism! I graciously let Hermione order first. Once again, I must have transgressed, because I asked our “waitperson”, just what they would recommend. Obviously NOT the right question I soon learned, as the tapping of the pencil on the order pad grew intently louder. “Bring me what your favorite thing is to eat.” I said. “Sure, honey.” The acerbic, bleached blonde smirked, as she turned on her heels and sauntered away.
Hemione and I took note of the other patrons. No wonder our state is known for its heart attack quotient. An endless supply of cholesterol couldn’t have entered the bodies of the fellow diners any faster had they been hooked to an IV drip! I did wonder how much “ketchup” and “gravy” the human body could consume before it eventually took on the form of a living French fry.
After three refills of water, (when did Ice become such a big deal?) our “food” finally arrived. An alien concoction of various ingredients that looked as if it were the last meal to come off the assembly line, just before the cook decided to kill himself. “I wonder if we should say grace?” I asked. “Myrna I didn’t know you were that religious?”,Hermione asked. ”I’m not. It’s just that this might be the last time we see each other alive.”, I replied. Hermione laughed nervously. It was then the assault on my palate began. Gentle readers, believe me when I tell you that what took place over the next thirty minutes shouldn’t happen to the prisoners at Guantanemo.
It was then our “waitperson” appeared with our “guest check”. One shouldn’t have to pay for such as this, I thought to myself. And to add insult to injury there were no prices on the paper.
“Oh, dear .... you’ve seemed to have left off the prices.”
“They’ll put ‘em on at the register. Have a nice day!!” But before she had a chance to disappear I had one final question. “Exactly what was this, this, maligned portion I had today?” “Just what you ordered.” she said, sneering at me.” “Really? And just what would that be?” I asked sincerely. “It’s ‘The BIG One’” she laughed as she turned away, cackling!
I should have known!