Last night I went to Chili's in Gastonia with some work friends for a pseudo-mini bachelorette party. All day I had been looking forward to those new mini buffalo chicken crisper sandwiches. Well, all day until it was pointed out that my favorite item on the menu is 1700 calories. Seriously. It's four baby sandwiches. I don't think straight lard has that many calories. Seeing that my one favorite thing is 150 calories more than my max caloric intake should be in a day, I decided to go with the grilled buffalo chicken sandwich on the Guiltless Grill (that Guiltless Grill was made for people like me who carry around a lot of guilt, I guess).
So...I was prepared when the waitress came around. It's best if I just give you our exchange:
Me: I'll have the buffalo chicken sandwich, but instead of the side of vegetables, I'd like fries.
Waitress: Ummm...you want the buffalo chicken sandwich on the Guiltless Grill?
Waitress: But you want to substitute fries for your veggies??
Me: Yes, please.
Waitress: With your sandwich off of the Guiltless Grill???
Me: Oh! And can I please have some ranch dressing on the side??
Waitress: *blank stare*
Did I really need judgement from the waitress at Chili's? No.
Do I care that she judged me? Well, not so much anymore, I guess.
Am I excited that I got chips and salsa to go? Heck yes, I am!
Should I have tried to finish all of the sandwich AND fries, just to spite her? Probably not...my poor plate looked like a disaster of carbohydrates after I decided that the bread just wasn't worth eating...If. I. Can. Just. Get. Down. The. Chicken. *enter large sigh here*
Moral of the story: Stop smoking. You smell.
(I realize that the "moral of the story" doesn't really go along with "the story", but it was on my mind and I didn't really have a real "moral".)