A few months ago, I was in New York City to see a few friends and to pick up some food.
It was supposed to be my first time in a restaurant, but my friends and I were all eager to try it.
When I went in, the waitress asked me what I wanted.
I said, “I want a grilled cheese sandwich,” and the waitress laughed and asked, “So, how much?”
“A sandwich,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll get you one.”
The waitress asked what I would like the cheese on it.
I asked her, “Would you like some lettuce or some tomato?”
She said, no.
So I got a grilled sandwich and got to work.
The grilled cheese was delicious and the staff were friendly.
The next morning, when I came back home, the kitchen was almost empty.
There were no customers, no plates.
I went to the front of the kitchen and there was a stack of paper napkins, some napkins from the kitchen, some paper napkin cups, and a few napkins that had the menu on them.
I looked at them, and they had all been thrown out.
I thought to myself, I don’t want to go to the kitchen any more.
And then I realized that my friends were so nice to me that they had forgotten that they were in New Jersey.
A few days later, I had a similar experience.
I was at a grocery store.
The lady behind the counter asked me if I wanted some fresh produce, and I said yes.
The waitress, who I didn’t know, asked, how many cups of milk I had.
I answered, five.
She said it would be $5 for me.
I’m sure it was an awkward situation because she was not the kind of person to ask me for money, but I don