Writing Like a "Normal Person"

Yesterday I had a “work lunch” in a restaurant like a normal person.  I ordered a Cobb Salad but this was a ‘fancy style’ one and it had steak and balsamic vinaigrette. Balsamic vinaigrette seems wrong to put on a Cobb salad so I decided to swap it out for Bleu Cheese dressing so when the lady took my order I said, ‘Oh, and can I have a side of Bleu cheese please?”  She said yes and I felt happy about my forthcoming lunch and continued talking with my boss and coworkers like a normal person.

My salad came and it looked nice.  Then the lady set down a little silver container of Bleu cheese crumbles.  Hmph, I thought, staring at the little silver container of Bleu cheese crumbles while the rest of the plates were placed on the table.  It was then I realized that I hadn’t quite made myself clear when asking for a side of “Bleu Cheese”.  In my head, I felt I’d implied the dressing ‘swap’ from Balsamic vinaigrette to Bleu cheese but if I put myself on the receiving end of our exchange, I realized that I’m just a customer who ordered a salad that already came with bleu cheese who then asked for even MORE bleu cheese.  Like, I was a person who was ‘crazy for bleu cheese’.  Maybe even a ‘bleu cheese fanatic’.  The lady probably gets crazier food requests so she didn’t bat an eyelash or even question my request for a ‘side of bleu cheese’ for a salad that already had bleu cheese on it. 

My mistake, leaving out the key word, “dressing.” 

So, I ate my balsamic vinaigretted Cobb Salad like a normal person.  The small, silver container of Bleu cheese sitting alongside my plate, silently mocking me.

The salad was okay with the balsamic vinaigrette, but the entire time I knew how much awesomer it would’ve been with the Bleu cheese.

I should’ve just asked for a side of Ranch and she would’ve immediately have been clear, because….what would she’d have served me ‘by mistake’? A small, western replica of a ranch??! No. She would’ve understood I meant ‘dressing,’ Like a normal person.


After we paid and left the table, I wondered what the lady would think when she found the small, silver container of Bleu cheese still full, untouched, sitting beside my empty plate.  A ‘Blue cheese nut’ who orders a side of Bleu cheese and just lets it sit there, uneaten.  She probably thought I had some sort of ‘power complex’, ordering sides of wacky shit just because I could.  I don’t know.  But I still am wondering what she wondered back about me, a ‘normal’ person.

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