I don't adhere to the tapeworm theory

Not yesterday, but last Monday, I had an odd duck come in to the Meat Palace (as I affectionately call it). He sits down, and just seems kinda... off. I like to think I can peg the weirdos at this stage in my serving career, and the alarm was dinging. So I offer him a menu and he's all, nope, I know what I want--now, bear in mind that this is the beginning of our third week of operation. He says, "I'll have a whole chicken, and a full rack of beef ribs," at which this point I think, surely he's ordering take out, but instead I say, "Okay, well, you get to pick two sides with each of those entrees." He doesn't have to think long. "Well, I like the beans... make it three orders of beans and... one of dirty rice. No, wait... one of potato salad, and two of beans. And water to drink." So I say, probingly, "Is this for take out?" (subtle, I know). Nope, sez he.


Chez Meat Palace, we have decorative buckets with three different kinds of tobasco in them which are meant for your bone-related debris as you eat. We didn't have enough big ones for each table, so now we also have some small ones. The man happened to be sitting at the counter, and the nearest bucket was small. I push it over to him when I deliver the food, and he says, "Usually you guys give me one of the bigger ones." I'm thinking, how often does this man come here and eat a zoo? He wasn't that much bigger than me.


So then he tucks in, and I switched his bucket out for a bigger one. After the buckets are half full, we're supposed to empty them. When I did that, he paused and asked me my name... now, here's the creepy part. I give him my server smile and say "Oh, it's Susan." And he says, "Eating is a very intimate act for me.... I like to know the names of the people I'm sharing it with." And he ate every damn thing. There I was, unwittingly involved in his weird sexual eating game!



I'm attempting some length swimming today. I haven't done it in a loooong time, so I am going to be in considerable pain tomorrow.