Wednesday, March 15, 2006

WHEN THE WAITER IS BRUTALLY HONEST

The little old lady was on a three-day cross-country car trip, all by herself. After a full day on the road, she was bone weary. She pulled over at a nice-looking motel somewhere in Arizona that was attached to a restaurant.

The dinner menu looked OK. The waiter arrived, a teen with tousled hair.

“What’s the soup today?”

“Bean soup.”

“Is it any good?”

“I don’t know what happened . . . but today, it is.”

No, she didn’t order the soup, and she kept all 10 fingers and all 10 toes crossed when her entrée arrived. She doesn’t know what happened . . . but it was good.
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