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Dessert

A couple of years ago, I was on a trip with a friend to New York. During the course of the trip, I was leaving a restaurant when a doorman clapped me on the shoulder. My companions thought that this somehow implied a sexual advance or flirting of some sort.

Well, that wasn't the last time I've had others read into a situation like that. I've been going out to eat lunch a lot more lately, largely because I get very restless if I don't get out of the office to break up my day. Eating at restaurants means dealing with waiters and waitresses, so I have had plenty of interactions with them lately. Somehow, though, the people around me have decided that this means that the wait staff is constantly flirting with me.

The first example came when I ordered a burger. This particular establishment let you pick either thin-cut fries or potato wedges. I didn't have a strong preference, so I hesitated for a moment. Trying to be helpful, the waitress asked if I'd ever eaten potato wedges with ranch dressing. I hadn't, but she recommended it. I ultimately decided against the wedges, but promised to give them a shot at some point.

A few minutes after our food came out, though, she stopped by with a small plate. It had a few potato wedges on it, and a side of ranch dressing. Laughing, I thanked her for the food, and went back to my other food. My friend, on the hand, was convinced that this was a sign of the waitress trying to hit on me. Not only had she been trying to be helpful with a food recommendation, she had laughed during the exchange. The two extra fries were the final proof. Clearly, this woman was attracted to me, and I should ask her out on the spot.

This wasn't the only time this happened, either. I had just sat down at a  Mexican restaurant with someone, and the waitress asked if we wanted anything to drink. I hadn't yet perused the menu, so I asked if they served horchata. Sadly, they did not, so I ordered lemonade instead.

When the waitress came back with the drinks, she remarked, "we should sell horchata, huh? That stuff is good" with a little chuckle. Again, I thought nothing of it. My companion, on the other hand, was convinced that the waitress was trying to hit on me. Why else would she mention it after she'd already walked away? Or throw in that little chuckle in the end? The minds of women are devious, and there's never an unintentional motion or phrase thrown in. This was a deliberate, thought-out attempt to get my attention, and I was missing out on the nuance.

My absolute favorite example of this, though, came up in an Italian restaurant when I was on vacation. I ordered my food, when the waitress remarked that my pronunciation was surprisingly good. We weren't from the area, so I assumed she meant that I didn't sound like a local. Also, speaking any of the romance languages tends to help a tiny bit with understanding/speaking the remaining romance languages, so I didn't think much of it.

As it turns out, our waitress had studied abroad in Italy for a bit, and my friend was of Italian descent. They quickly broke out into an Italian conversation, and I patiently waited while they did so. I didn't understand much of it (I said it helps a tiny bit), but it sounded like a normal conversation to me.

Anyhow, after we had finished our food, she asked if we wanted any dessert. I assented, so she said she'd be back. I figured she was going to bring by dessert menus, but this was not to be. Smiling, the waitress came back with a a dessert tray, with samples of each of the items. This was the practice at the restaurant, and we joked that this was way better than a menu. I poked my head towards the tray, and decided on cheesecake. It was good, and I left the place feeling sated.

Later on, though, my travel buddy would remark that the waitress' Italian was actually pretty bad. By his standards, she didn't know what good pronunciation was, so she wasn't exactly in a position to judge. However, it was a sign that she wanted to talk to me. Also, he swore up and down that when she was offering dessert, there was a bit of a double entendre there. Silly old me had thought it was all innocent, but clearly the guy who spoke Italian knew better. Thus, a new joke was born, and he could not keep a straight face any time the topic of dessert came up.

Given all of that, though, I'm not sure what to think. Either I'm a completely clueless restaurant Don Juan or some of my friends have imaginations far more active than mine. Either way, I think I'm going to eat out more often. Only good things can come from this.

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