My husband took me out to a great Arabic restaurant tonight. The atmosphere was beautiful, the food was delicious, and the service was so friendly! Our waitress brought us some waters and rattled off the typical line, “Hi, I’ll be your server tonight. Just let me know if there’s anything you need. My name’s ___.”
Then I, without thinking, blurted out, “It’s nice to meet you!”
She had turned to go, but hesitated slightly at my response, a bit confused by the unexpected greeting; however, compelled by the laws of common courtesy, she politely replied, “Nice to meet you…too…” and continued walking away (never mind the fact that she hadn’t actually met me).
Meanwhile, my husband looked on, entirely amused by the situation. Not being one to let such a golden moment slip by, he immediately seized the opportunity to tease me mercilessly about my new acquaintance.
Maybe we could friend each other on Facebook.
I should get my picture taken with her, then tag her later.
Even I couldn’t resist joining in. I deserved it! The rest of the evening was riddled with mockery of my eager sociability.
Had she eaten yet? Perhaps she’d like to pull up a chair, we had plenty of food to share.
It was awfully nice of her to keep getting us things. She’s so sweet!
I should give her a hug before we left.
And so on. We’re so immature…