Jill's Journal: Where's the beef?

I must have a sign on my head these days that says, “I wait patiently for my food.”

For the most part, I do.

But for whatever reason, I’ve experienced a string of recent dining experiences that have had me and my tablemates doing just that – waiting patiently.

Here are the recent reasons for my “beef.”

My friends and I often opt for Sunday morning brunch following church services. On a recent Sun-day, we did just that. We ordered our meals, talked, said our hellos to folks we know, and watched orders be delivered. To other tables that arrived after us.

That is where the “patiently waiting” part comes in.

As it turns out, our ticket somehow got placed behind all of the other tickets in the kitchen.

I understand that mistakes happen. Trust me. I understand. I make them every week, if not every day.

Fast-forward to another post-worship Sunday morning brunch option. After patiently waiting for the estimated 15 minutes for a table, our name was called and we were escorted to a booth with a win-dow view. Once again, we perused the menu, conversed, ordered our meal, conversed some more, watched as people came and went, took notice of plated orders on their way to neighboring tables, including those tables that arrived after us.

Sometime along the way, our server stopped by our table to let us know that our food was being plated as we spoke.

Five minutes passed. No plate.

Ten minutes passed. No plate.

Finally, armed with our long-awaited orders, the server announced that somehow, our ticket got lost in the shuffle.

Of course, it did, and again, I understand that mistakes happen. Trust me. I understand. I make them every week, if not every day.

My “beefy” story doesn’t end there.

With little desire to cook and my tax appointment set for an early evening timeslot, I opted for one of our local fast food restaurants. As it turns out, that too, turned into a “your order was misplaced” announcement.

Here’s how this one went down:

The teen behind the counter took my order, then took a break. Ironically so, he sat at the table across the aisle from me to enjoy his food. With his eyes peeled on his phone, I watched as a couple of people stepped up to the counter, placed their order, received their food and out the door they went.

The young who took my order took his break in a booth across the aisle from where I was sitting. Intermittently, he would glanced at me.

After waiting 20 minutes – now that’s patience – I returned to the counter to pose that all-important-my-stomach-is-growling question, “Where’s the beef?”

Yep, you guessed it. My order – call it the luck of the draw, if you prefer – was overlooked.

For my inconvenience, the restaurant offered an apology and added in a free meal for my next visit. While I didn’t have enough time to gobble down my meal before the accountant delivered the bad news – you will owe the government a chunk of change – I decided that a little “beef now and then” can well be worth the wait.