Food for Thought

I just came home from trying to eat the some of worst Italian food ever wrought upon humanity, but it was one of the best evenings I've had since landing in Nairobi three months ago!

A group of friends had planned a dinner for tonight, and it happened to coincide with my b-day. Ruth and Juliette are scientists, Jeff and his wife Meredith are PR consultants, Grace is a media coordinator for an agricultural research institute...and I'm old enough to have given birth to each one of them.

That nasty bit of reality aside, tonight was so much fun! That is, when we weren't gagging over my steaming plate of swill that passed for lasagna, and Grace's salmon with the sickly aftertaste, and the Jeff's pork chop that must have come from a pig with full-blown cholera.

When we weren't laughing so hard we were about to do spit-takes, we were fighting to get half-way decent service. We ultimately wound up sending back three of the dishes, canceling a fourth order, and then scrounging around the remaining plates with haunted looks in our eyes.

When the manager came over to ask what was wrong with the food, I barely knew where to start. "Well, first, there's no flavor to the lasagna, I couldn't find any meat, and it just looked nasty," I snapped, while Juliette almost fell off the chair from a mixture of laughter and mortification. The manager said, "Well, that's how my mother makes it," and I caught myself before hissing, "Well, I hope you were adopted."

We eventually managed to make a meal of a couple of pizzas and the so-called caesar salad Jeff had ordered, and then we had to threaten to leave before they finally brought us the bill. It seemed quite unfair to have to pay for that level of culinary abuse, but we DID have booze, after all.

Anyway, Jeff suggested we go to this OTHER Italian restaurant for dessert. But by that time, I was ready to strangle Jeff anyway, because he and Meredith had picked the first place without ever going there before...whereas they'd been to the second place frequently and KNEW it had good food. I'm like, "Why did I have to be the canary in the coal mine, on my birthday of all days???" But hell, it was worth it for some of the best laughter I've had in ages.

At the next stop, which boasts an absolutely delightful candle-lit outdoor setting, we were waiting for our dessert and coffee when his canned music starts blaring, and a waiter headed in our direction holding a plate with a candle stuck in the middle. I was actually sitting there thinking, "I wonder what sucker is going to have to suffer through another corny birthday ritual?" when said waiter placed the plate in front of me.

Suddenly, the key to life became crystal clear. Surround yourself with good friends and laugh your ass off as much as possible, and you'll get through just fine.