Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Billy Doesn't Belong Here

Anyone that knows me knows that I'm a pretty simple guy when it comes to food. I'll fairly standard in my love for sweet glorious burgers, a sandwich of pretty much any kind, and ya know, bacon. When it comes to going out to eat, I like the same kind of places. Many of my friends bitch because I don't like anything different, but I frankly don't care enough to seek out new stuff. At this point in my life, what's best for me physically is to NOT find more food that I like eating. I have a tough enough time as it is, being surrounded by chain restaurants and food of all sorts that I devour.

SO, when it comes to eating at nicer places, I find myself flustered and not knowing how to act. It may seem cliched, but it's true. I just feel completely out of place. For my Mom's birthday, she wanted to get the family together, get dressed up and head to an uber-fancy place in town called The Raven and The Peach. This was a place that I drove past thousands of times in my life, but never wanted to go in because of stories of how expensive it was, how upscale it was, and how for such a little lot, they still found it necessary to have a valet guy. BUT, this is what my Mom wanted, sooo, off we went.

We give the car to the valet guy who promptly parks four spots down from where we were standing. We still needed to tip for that. Unreal. We go inside, get seated, and I'm met with a barrage of silverware. There are four forks, a big knife, a small butter knife on a smaller plate, and two glasses. I had no idea what this stuff was for. I mean, I had a basic idea, but for God's sake, 7 pieces of silverware, really? We get drinks, and the menu gets handed to us, and WOW. The prices. How do people have the stones to charge this much for a damn piece of steak with some potatoes? I felt cheap just ordering it, trying to use the right accent on things. I felt like a hillbilly. All I want is a damn piece of meat. Who do these people think they are? Do they think they're better than me? Even the standard rolls and butter they need to make super pompous, by handing out pumpernickel bread and bread with raisins. Give me a damn roll, ya douchebags! Oh hey, look, a complimentary appetizer! NOW we're talking. Wait. What is this? Oh, it's a thin slice of cucumber with a small piece of fruschetta on top. It's what I've ALWAYS wanted. Oh, and you gave it it's own plate. Very necessary. Where the frick are the chicken fingers?

To their credit, the steak was really delicious; and the service was very good. That being said, I felt like a total poseur. I got my water refilled all the time, because I felt guilty ordering alcoholic drinks, thinking they'd be about a week's pay for me. I think next time, I'm going to stick with the Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburgers. See, you can tell it's good because the word cheese is in the name twice.

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