So I’m in South Florida for a week of vacation, staying at a nice hotel in downtown Sarasota. My rate includes breakfast at the hotel, and I have eaten there every morning.
The morning I leave, I head down for breakfast. I am wearing my Columbia PFG shirt with GT logo. There are a dozen tables with diners.
Guy comes up to me, bypassing every other diner, interrupts me reading the paper, and asks if everything is ok. (First time anyone at restaurant has spoken all week except for taking my order, etc.). I say fine, and then he leans down and gets close to my ear. He says “Gooo dawgs” and starts to walk off.
I called him an FN A and told him to run along, be a good boy and “fetch my food”. Then I was worried he would spit in it and split before it came. I could not get the thought that he would tamper with my food out of my head, and was having flashback to Horacio Sanz’s special French toast from Road Trip.
The morning I leave, I head down for breakfast. I am wearing my Columbia PFG shirt with GT logo. There are a dozen tables with diners.
Guy comes up to me, bypassing every other diner, interrupts me reading the paper, and asks if everything is ok. (First time anyone at restaurant has spoken all week except for taking my order, etc.). I say fine, and then he leans down and gets close to my ear. He says “Gooo dawgs” and starts to walk off.
I called him an FN A and told him to run along, be a good boy and “fetch my food”. Then I was worried he would spit in it and split before it came. I could not get the thought that he would tamper with my food out of my head, and was having flashback to Horacio Sanz’s special French toast from Road Trip.
