Kevin and I went out to dinner for his birthday. We chose an upscale, but not-too posh Italian place in town. (Nothing in our mountain town is too posh, so the chi-chi factor is all relative.) We were saddled with a waiter who must have been the boss' son or grandson. Nice enough kid, but a couple seated 15 minutes after us left 30 minutes before we were finished. Things move at a slightly slower pace up here in Mayberry. Anyway, an older couple was seated at the table next to us. The woman must have asked our Anakin Skywalker-look alike waiter to describe a particular pasta dish on the menu. Out of the blue I hear:
Waiter: "Do you like Spaghettios?"
Diner: [long pause] "Sure. I suppose."
Waiter: [cute, but very empty smile] "Great. Then you'll love this. It tastes just like Spaghettios. I really like it."
A tin can filled with saucy goodness!
Hmmm...brings to mind visions of those flacid noodle o's floating in the neon-orange colored ketchup sauce. Now that's quality dining. Maybe young Anakin needs to stick to jedi mind tricks.