Restaurant Bread RULES!!!!!!!!!!

I love going out to eat, and one of the big reasons I love it is the complimentary bread. When the complimentary bread arrives, I am ready to devour.  My arm is propped to grab the first piece.  Call me selfish, but it is just something I have to do.  I might drop 25 bucks on an entrée that is only so-so and they can bring it next to the table 3 hours late. I don't care. Maybe it will taste great. Maybe it'll disappoint. Perhaps the portion will be too small or overcooked.  I don't even care if the waiter serves it up ice cold, on fire, or marinated in shards of glass. Just keep the free bread coming.

Why doesn't bread and butter or bread with Olive Oil taste as good at home? What's so special about restaurant bread and butter or oil? Where do they get that lightly whipped sweet butter? It is almost as if it were Ambrosia! Can I buy this magical butter somewhere? Maybe they import it from Cuba. It must surely be contraband for all the pleasure whipped inside of it.

Maybe you're like me. The bread-eating becomes a game. How many free rolls can I eat without spoiling my meal? Answer, who cares? I'm going to keep eating bread until the food arrives.

Ask my wife about the bread.  Ask what happens when we are at a table for more than 5 minutes and they haven't brought the bread out yet.   That's an emergency on the order of an earthquake, hurricane and volcano combined.   Damn that waiter. I start nervously looking around for him or her, looking for signs of bread on other tables.  Maybe I should give him an extra minute or two. Maybe the watier is waiting for a fresh loaf to pop out of the oven just for me! Then I spot him from the corner of my eye coming out of the kitchen.  That Idiot!!!  No bread!!!  How dare he bring food to another table before bringing my bread!!!  He thinks he can screw me out of my complimentary bread and still get a tip?

Another minute will pass. By this time I've already ordered. Still no  bread. I'm becoming irrational. I am getting a crazy look in my eye.  I'm thinking about just getting up and walking into the kitchen myself to get the bread.  Maybe I could mug one of the waiters to wear the uniform and look more "official".  Where is my fake restaurant inspector card from the State of Iowa when I need it?   Gotta get the bread!!!  I plopped out a ton of dough for this meal. I want the bread I have coming to me.

Here is another bread scenario that is dealt with many times.  How about when you're dining with 5 or so other people, and the waiter brings out a basket with 4 rolls. What kind of sick, ancient Roman arena contest is this? A shortage of rolls can turn perfectly civilized people into gladiators with steak knives.

The table goes quiet as everyone makes a mental bread roll count via their peripheral vision. A showdown is pending.  My mental gears start wheeling. Well, I hope Jeff ate before he came because he's not getting my roll!... Damn that Carol. Five minutes ago she was boring us to tears with her Atkins diet speech and now she grabs a roll? What happened to your low-carb miracle diet, Carol? I hope that pig splits her dress.

On the outside, I play it cool. I drop a line like: “Oh, there's bread. Maybe I'll have a piece. Then again, I don't want to spoil my appetite.” I hope they bought it.  They won't see me as a threat for the bread.  What a phony bastard I am. A real man would take the last roll, but I'm emasculated by years of politeness programming and social mores.  Then it hits me -- "screw it" I think.  And I shoot my arm in and grab a roll.  Someone will invariably ask "I thought you were worried about your appetite?"  I just glare at them and say "Changed my Mind!"

“We could use another basket of bread, if it's not too much trouble,” someone mutters at the table.  A sigh of relief comes over me.  Not only do I not look like a pig since I didn't ask for more bread, I can start the whole process over again.

Oh The Joys of Bread!!!

I Guess I Am an Asshole!

That's right. I know. I can't believe it either. I am as shocked as you are. But this is what a good female friend of mine told me this week. Her exact words were (I will never forget them): "You know, you're a real asshole, and I'm not the only one who thinks so." So what could I possibly have done to cause such hatred from a good (and hot) friend of mine? After re-examining my words and actions, I admit it was kind of bad, but not bad enough to achieve “Asshole” status.  Stupid, idiotic, thoughtless and insensitive – Yes, Asshole – NO.  

I am going to give you the short and sweet version cuz I know most of you probably could care less about my personal problems and many of you have already come to the conclusion that I am an asshole based on this blog.  No use trying to persuade people otherwise…but for those of you who still have faith in me, let me explain.

Last Friday night I had a rockin’ party at my house. Lots of people, booze, music – It was great.  I felt like I was in College again!  (By the way - at what age do you stop having regular wild parties where everyone comes over to get drunk and you start having dinner parties, or those kind of house parties where there is a bartender and caterers…you know, “Adult parties” in the sense that they aren’t swinger parties and orgies.  Real grown-up parties?)   

My parties have become legendary and all follow the same format.  It goes like this: 30 or so friends come over, drink tons and tons of alcohol and those who smoke go out to the back patio and smoke away.  Then, inevitably, someone will suggest that we start playing a drinking game.  Maybe Quarters, Three-Man or Up and Down the River, to name a few.  So 10-15 of us start playing games on the table while the others keep chugging the alcohol, cranking up the music and watch ESPN with captions on in the background.  At least two people, and sometimes more, usually end up having sex in the basement, spare bedroom or out in the back yard (It’s dark and there is a fence). Throughout the evening, the numbers of party-goers fluctuate, but always hover around the 30 mark. 

The party Friday night was pretty much going the same way all the other parties go.  Drinking, games, music…I don’t think anyone had had sex yet…  The only difference was that just about everyone was drunk as hell.  Usually I have 5 or 6 partiers who don’t drink or maybe just have a beer or two – the designated drivers (This is why I have a lot of parties in my house, I don’t have to worry about being the designated driver!) 

Finally, around 3 AM, just about everyone had left, save for 4 of my very best friends.  This girl (we will call her Denise – which may or may not be her real name) notices a phone on the couch and yells, to no one in particular, “OH, OH - someone left a cell phone."

It’s my house so I get to check it out first.  I find out that the phone belonged to my friend Maddie.  So what do I do?  I do what most drunk people would do – I start planning on how I can inappropriately use her cell phone.  I had to play a joke on her for leaving the phone at my house! The problem is that Denise, even when she is drunk, is a very practical and honest person.  I immediately wanted to take pics of my “Johnson” or call some phone sex# that will show up on her phone bill, etc.  Everyone was throwing in their two cents worth so we put it up for a vote and we decided that we would send random text messages to mutual friends who weren’t at the party (using her phone of course.)

These were some of the Text Messages:   

To her weird roommate (who was out of town for a wedding): I cannot wait for you to get back from the wedding.  I have been thinking about you a lot…thinking about “us”.  We need to talk about doing some experimenting.  There are so many lesbians out there, it can’t be all that bad???

To Jenny (another single girl who had been at the party earlier): I had a great time tonight! You looked so hot with your new hair and that little skirt.  I have been having some strange feelings lately that I think I need to act out on. Maybe just the two of us could go out some time and get to know each other better. I hope you know what I mean by that.

To Reggie (a married friend of ours who was not at the party): Reg- You missed a great party tonight. Too bad you and Shelly couldn't make it because I can't stop thinking about that sexy dress she wore out to the bars last week.  Any chance you two would consider a threesome? 

To Dana (her best friend): We have to talk!  I have a problem and you probably won’t like it.  I think I have feelings for Chuck (Dana’s boyfriend).  We are such good friends, I want to let you know and discuss this.  I can’t stop thinking about him.  I am so wet and excited.  Would you consider letting me share your bed with him some night?

To Chuck (Dana’s Boyfriend):  Chuck, I know I am Dana’s best friend, but I want you!  BAD!  I Need you Now!  If Dana is with you, that is ok.  We can all get wild together!

To Brandon (Her Ex-Boyfriend, they broke up a month ago):  Brandon, we need to talk.  I still hate you, but I am pregnant and it is yours.  We have a problem! 

To Kelly (her sister):  Sorry Kelly.  I slept with your ex-boyfriend tonight!  You were right, he really is hung like a horse but sucks in bed!  Probably won’t be doing that again. 

Then, we might have accidentally gone overboard.  Somebody, I don’t remember who but I am pretty sure it wasn’t me, sent a message to everyone in her contact list.  EVERYONE!  Probably included parents, grandparents, little nephews and nieces…EVERYONE!!!

This is what that fateful message read: "To Everyone: I love you all!  I'm soooo drunk and looking to hook up! IM HORNY!  Call me!!!!" The phone was handed over to me and I turned it off while laughing

We all end up sleeping, with Denise and a couple of others crashing at my place. 

Then, I get a phone call at about 9 AM (She had been calling earlier but I was passed out.)  Maddie was calm at first, telling me that her roommate called her at about 6:30 in the morning and let her know about the text message.  Maddie actually thought that one was pretty funny.  She thought the set-up for Dana and Chuck was hilarious too and she even chuckled at the message I sent to Jenny.  In fact, she was pretty cool with all the messages I had sent.  She thought they were pretty funny and creative. 

Then a pause…and she unleashed HELL!!!  She was not happy with the message that was sent to her contact list.  She had talked to Denise and another guy at the party and they both told her it was me that sent the message (maybe it was…I was pretty drunk!)  She went off on me!  Her mother, grandma, boss, co-workers, dad, brothers and sisters, church group friends, etc. all received the message.  She told me that she had about 15 voice mails and another 10 missed calls on her home phone. People were calling her concerned about her, wanting to know what was going on, etc. and she also received a few “booty calls” from guys who were still up at that hour.   She asked me to turn on her phone and I did.  She had 63 text messages and 25 missed calls.  OOOPS!!! 

Denise, who had spent the night, immediately jumped in and laid into me, calling me an asshole.  Maddie seconded that statement and echoed the Asshole phrase a few times. 

So here I am, admitting that I screwed up.  IT was pretty bad.  I went over the line.  I shouldn’t have sent that mass text (although I am not 100% sure I did, just 90% sure).  IT was my bad and I truly apologize.  Maybe I am an asshole, but I was just trying to have fun.  I know that is no excuse… 

H I didn't do it to be an asshole. I just didn't think. It was a thoughtless act.  Yes, I can, and do, put some of the blame on the alcohol, but in the end, it was all me!  I am pretty sure that Maddie will forgive me.  We have been friends for a long, long time.  I apologized and offered to give her her phone back.  She told me she will have to get a new number cuz she told everyone her phone was stolen.  Denise is a different story.  She is all about doing what is right and prides herself on not doing stupid stuff, even when she is drunk.  She told me that I am a bad influence on her and she thinks she has been drinking more since she joined my inner group of friends. She said she needs “A break from all this craziness.” 

P.S. – Now that everyone thinks her phone was stolen, is it bad that I want it so I can use it to prank call people?  NOOOOO, I Better Not!!!!!