I managed to control my anticipation until drarwenchicken was out of bed, but first we HAD to go for breakfast. I mean, my god. After yesterday's odyssey, it was imperative that we actually have breakfast when we went out for breakfast. Thinking ourselves wise to choose something close, we went to the Fireside Inn in beautiful, downtown Manzanita. Staffed by two women, one older, one much younger, probably related, and very cute. Imagine a busty teenage Renée Zellweger. We chose a table by the window, which unfortunately was served by the older woman. Now, I'm not saying this for solely glandular reasons; Probably-Mom's short-term memory was worn a bit smooth by the sea, if you know what I mean. She took a while to get around to us. Later, after I reminded her about cream for my coffee, she made a scary noise, which likely meant "My forgetfulness brings shame to my ancestors!", but drarwenchicken could barely keep me from hiding under the table. Of course, that's nothing compared to The Surreal Moment. I'm eating my sausages. They're rather tasty. Probably-Mom approaches.
Probably-Mom: "Aren't those good sausages? You know the Pig and Pancake? I went there one time, and they had bad sausages. I couldn't believe it! That's like going to Denny's and getting bad sausages!"
(There isn't a good word for the quiet noise someone makes when suddenly surprised by a crashingly bizarre statement and desperately tries not to laugh out loud, but that's exactly the noise she made.)
After Probably-Mom returned to the kitchen, we wondered, "Can one get good sausage at Denny's?" I always thought the reasons eats at Denny's are 1) They're open all night, and 2) the food's inexpensive. I suppose I've never had bad food there; it's always been the predictable, mass-produced fare of a major chain restaurant. The food is designed to not frighten their primary customers: Old People and Partyers transitioning from Party Buzz to Morning Hangover. drarwenchicken was stage manager for a touring shows a couple years, she's probably eaten in more restaurants than most people see in a lifetime. She knows well that which is Denny's.
After our meal, it took some effort to flag down Probably-Mom to get our check. She was apologetic, and offered this peculiar explanation: "I don't know why, but I hardly noticed you there. Next time you need to say something when you come in so I'll remember you!"
Therefore, when you go to Manzanita's Fireside Inn and you want good service, let the first thing out of your mouth be a loud "Hey! Is your daughter eighteen?" That's what I'm going to do.