Rising Up From The Ashes

I like good food.
A lot!
So over the years, I have managed to get my name onto the VIP list at several of the top restaurants here in the Twin Cities.

My favorite table, beverage of choice and special days of the year are all on record.

As a result, I have come to expect excellent service.
Tonight was the exception.

Steve, my usual server was gone. Replaced by some new twit. One who commented that my companion might need a wheelbarrow to get home after all the food that was ordered and excused his mistakes by blaming them on the Jagermeister he drank before his shift. Fine at Applebee's but not so much at this place.

At one point, he came to our table mid-conversation to ask me what the key on my neck was for.
I stopped, looked him in the eye, and said, "The padlock around my slave's neck."
I smiled slightly then resumed my conversation.
He stood there stunned, mouth opening and closing like a fish, for some time. He finally wandered away slowly.
A short bit later he was back, unwilling, or unable, to make eye contact.
But, I will say this, our service was fantastic the rest of the night.

I wonder if he is part of the life style.

And if that information managed to make its way into my file...