I turned 50 last October. As a gift, my sister gave me a book from the year I was born. It was a fantastic read with a great opening line. It was called "Herzog"
I've never read "Moby-Dick" or "The Whale" for that matter. I'm not sure why. I've read the first few pages and it seems entertaining enough.
But that has nothing to do with anything I'm going to talk about. I'm just stalling. I thought about making "Call me Ishmael" somehow fit in with the beginning of this post, but It wasn't obvious. The only thing I came up with was this:
"Call Me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse. Yeah I carried a purse. What of it, Mister? Anyway, there was no money in it so I applied for a position at Petrow's ..."
So about a fortnight ago, I posted a blog about an experience I had at Petrow's Old People restaurant.
I won't bore you with the details again because I plan to bore you with all new details.
The day after I posted that, um post, I was talking to my dad. Since I had just written about it, I had my routine all worked out. I told my dad all about how stupid it was and that the food was sub par.
Then he said, "Petrow's has really good breckfusses."
You know how sometimes when you get really old and your hearing starts to go and then 10 years go by and your hearing gets worser and worser until you can't hear anything much at all, but you refuse to get any sort of aid?
"Dad - I'm saying I had a horrible experience at Petrow's. It really sucked."
"Yeah - we ought to go up there for breakfast some time. They have the best hash browns in town!"
"How did you hear the 'Petrow's' part, but none of the rest of what I said?"
"Hey! I know! How about next week - not tomorrow - but the following Saturday - we go up for some breakfast. You won't believe how good their hash browns are!"
Well - I didn't hate my experience at Petrow's. Strongly disliked, sure. I could go get some breakfast, I guess. No biggie.
"Sure Dad. I'll go next Saturday if you want. Also, Jimmy's Egg has excellent hash browns."
"Ok. I'll call you next week. This is gonna be great. Hash browns!"
So - over the course of the next week, my dad told lots of people he was going to Petrow's on Saturday. He invited them and said he was paying. He wanted everyone to go. We'd all have a great time. Spoiler alert: we all really did have a good time.
Several times that week, Dad called me to make sure I knew to bring the whole family. Well - only Abe was able to make it that day.
When we got there - My dad and family that showed up was around 15 people. My sister and her husband were there. But she did not want to hear about the onion rings (I mean TWO ONION RINGS?) again. That kind of pissed me off.
Once we had all arrived, our waitress Ahab came limping out for our drink order.
We pretty much all got coffee. I was asking Abe what he wanted, but he didn't know.
I suggested hot chocolate and he said "Yeah"
"Oooh - our hot chocolate machine is broken," said Ahab.
I looked at my sister and said, "It's everything with this place."
Now I just said it in a conversational voice. Not quiet or loud. But Ahab felt the need to defend her dear employer.
"No it's not!" she said.
"Well it's 2 things then. Broken hot chocolate machine and argumentative wait staff."
This did not make Ahab smile.
"How about chocolate milk, Abe? Do you have chocolate Milk?"
"Yes," said Ahab.
"Can you put it in a mug and nuke it?"
"I'm sorry, we're not allowed..."
"I'm sure you're not," I countered.
So this was starting off well.
When everyone was ordering coffee, Uncle Vic asked Ahab if she could just leave a pitcher of coffee at the table since there were so many people having coffee.
True story - she said "I'm sorry, we're not allowed" again.
After Ahab brought out the drinks and took our food order, we sat and had a nice chat and stuff.
After a while, my cup was empty. Ahab came to the table with a fresh pot and - no joke - filled everybody's cup but mine.
I told my dad about it. He didn't believe me. He said I was imagining it. I told him to watch, but not say anything.
She came out 3 more times and filled coffee cups at all tables and left mine empty.
Somewhere in here, my Dad and Uncle's friend, John, said to me, "I would tell you that maybe you'll learn to keep your mouth shut from now on, but I know your dad, so ..."
I love John. He's hilarious. Also, after breakfast, he asked if he could get one of the Petrow's world famous pecan rolls or something. He was told that the baker has fallen ill as of a month ago and so there are no pastries at Petrow's. It might be a good time to mention that Petrow's sucks.
Eventually, Ahab brought out a pot with less than a full cup left in it and poured the dregs into my cup and then without turning the pot up, walked away spilling coffee across the table and toward me. Active aggressive, much? I thought, all passive aggressive-like.
I used up a bunch of napkins sopping up the mess. I was Tebowing in my mind to the good lord above for providing me with so much blog fodder.
I was starting to get the feeling Ahab was trying to tell me something, but unfortunately, I already knew she was a stupid bitch, so the coffee spilling was a little redundant.
When the food came out, my dad insisted I try some of his hash browns.
They didn't look too good. They were more like "home fries" and looked to be undercooked. They were. Also, they weren't seasoned at all. They were just terrible. Jimmy's Egg has great hash browns, by the way.
Dad said, "You don't like this place, do you."
I said, "Only because it sucks ass."
Dad laughed.
"But thanks for paying," I said.
Full disclosure: I ordered some sort of a cholesterol nightmare biscuit/gravy/egg thing that was absolutely delicious.
Also - I'm never going back to Petrow's.
Now - it's personal.
Later that day, dad called me to say he was never going back to Petrow's. His hash browns were terrible and his eggs were cold.
"Maybe next time you'll listen to me," I said.
"There won't be a next time, cause I ain't going back," dad said.
"There's is one place I heard about that supposedly has pretty good hash browns. It's called "Get your ears checked"."
Disclaimer: Petrow's has not paid me for this advertisement.
Note: In Ahab's version of the story, my name is 'The Whale' or 'Moby-Dick' or just 'Dick.'
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