Today, while at a fairly popular chain restaurant, I had one of those moments those of us familiar with awkwarding experience frequently.
Side note: if your restaurant serves bread, you bring the bread. Constantly. Don’t assume I don’t want anymore. Don’t be stingy. And definitely don’t give me the hesitating “I’m not supposed to do that” look. You bring the damn bread.
So. We were waiting for our third basket of bread, I had placed the empty one the edge of the table as what I like to assume is the universal signal that we need more bread. Since we often forget to ask for things when servers come by, I was obsessed with thinking about how I wasn’t going to let our guy walk away without my request for more bread.
Our very nice waiter comes over and puts his hand on our empty bread basket as if to take it away, “Everything tasting good?”
“YES!” I screamed. My eyes got wide and stare-y, eyebrows to my hairline. “WE WANT MORE BREAD!”
Our very nice server smiled and said “sure thing.” He felt it. He felt my intensity. I won.
I turned back to look at the wall beside our table and sighed. “Well that may have been awkward.” Mike put his head down, shoulders shaking with laughter. “And I love you for it.”