Paper in My Soup...

It all started with a super-hot mommy/daddy only date to this swank (sort of) restaurant that we LOVE, Emmy's, which has the BEST authentic German fare around.  It had been so long since we'd been last, it took me forever to decide upon what to order. After pouring over the menu for what seemed like an eternity, I finally chose to perhaps...maybe...possibly...try the fish.

I asked the waitress what I considered to be a completely normal question, to which I anticipated a completely normal answer: "Where do you get your fish?" WEEEEELLLLLLL...you'd have thought I asked how to concoct a nuclear bomb by the look on her face! She insisted she didn't have any idea from where the fish came and proceeded to WAVE OVER the manager...ugh! He leaned over our on our table with both hands, looked me square in the eye (he was totally in my personal space, btw), and said he could go "look on the box!" Really, dude????  Then, he inquired whether or not I was allergic to something in particular and if that might have anything to do with my question. "No," I said, and assured him that I would simply have the filet instead. I couldn't very well tell Mr. Manager that I preferred NOT to ingest his now highly-questionable frozen fish from a box, now could I?  After all, it was branded "New" on the menu...

So, there we were, munchin' on the appetizer schnitzel, when the next course appeared at the table...the homemade potato soup! YUM! This soup is usually my absolute favorite part of the meal, but tonight, it contained a little unexpected suprise. THERE I WAS...quietly enjoying the minor slurping of my lovely soup...when, all of a sudden, I began to detect a slight need for negotiation between my teeth and a stubborn potato peel. I chewed, I gnawed, I did everything but actually pick my teeth with my fork...and FINALLY freed the lodged bit of potato peel from it's place of entrapment between my pearly whites. Next, a dilemma...what to do??? Should I simply swallow said peel and move on to the rest of my soup? Did I dare take it out of my mouth and attempt to discreetly place it on my napkin? Did I even try to voice my relief that it was no longer causing my such angst? ARGH...decisions, decisions, decisions!

As a last resort, I finally chose the path of discreet elimination...I quickly and carefully grabbed the potato peel and placed it on the edge of my soup platter.  BUT, IT WASN'T A POTATO PEEL...IT WAS PAPER!!!!!!!!   There had been a tiny scrap of paper swimming just below the surface of my beloved soup the whole time...what a let-down. Again, I was torn as to what my course of action should be. If I called the waitress over, would it be yet another excuse for her to lose her mind, feign ignorance of the matter, and wave over the personal-space-invading manager? I had to find out.

When the waitress came over to fill our water glasses, I explained to her the situation with the paper in my soup, honestly expecting...well, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. In a much more professional manner than the fish scandal, she thanked me for letting her know and left, making her report to the manager across the room moments later. When she returned, she apologized and offered us one free dessert. I explained that both Hubby and I had sworn off sweets for Lent and that we could not possibly accept her offer. She then proceeded to try to get us to take the dessert home to our children. I declined again, but to no avail. She tried once more, but I declined once more, assuring her that I really just wanted the staff to know that there was paper in my soup...and that it could be in other unsuspecting soup dishes anywhere around the room. Waitress finally left us alone, after practically begging us to take a free dessert, and we finished our otherwise-marvelous meal.

Over the remainder of our dinner, I regaled Hubby with the thrilling tale of how, when I was but a child, I once thought that I was chewing on the fatty remains of a piece of ham I'd had in the school cafeteria, but it turned out to be a spider on which I gnawed. Gross. I guess if there's any consolation whatsoever in this funky tale, it's that I at least did not find a spider in my potato soup...just paper...