“That One Chick” #7
When I was sixteen our family took a trip to Scotland, England and France to pick up my brother from his mission in London. We didn’t spend much time–a day actually–in France because, well, I don’t know why…poor planning perhaps. At any rate, we had jet lag so badly that when we took a tour bus to the Eiffel Tower, we opted to stay on the bus and sleep instead of going out and seeing the thing. I’ve regretted that a few times in my life.
We ate at a French restaurant–well, of course we did since that’s what every restaurant would be…in France. But this one had a really crabby waiter who didn’t like Americans–at all. I asked for a drink of water and he smacked the menu and said, “Where you see water on this menu?” It scared the heck out of me and I got a stomachache. I wasn’t hungry anymore so I didn’t order any food. That made him really mad and he started yelling a bunch of stuff in French. My dad finally just said, “Let’s get out of here.” So we left. Which probably made him even madder…if that’s possible.
I’d like to go back there someday and try that whole thing again…well, differently. I’ll try to behave myself…
and not ask for water.
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