Рет қаралды 126
One sunny day, needing a break from the usual grind, I played hooky to handle some family errands. The plan was straightforward: accompany my mom to her physical therapy session following a recent accident and fetch a dog ramp for our aging pet to ease his vehicle entries and exits.
After the appointment, as lunchtime approached, my stomach led the way. Driving through town, a sign caught my eye: “Philly Cheesesteaks”. It felt like fate. My enthusiasm bubbled over as I announced to my mom, “That’s our place!”
Upon entering, the aroma of sizzling meat and onions enveloped us. I approached the counter, curious about their popular offerings. After settling on their best-seller, the server asked about drinks. “Just three waters,” I replied, preferring simplicity. “Bottled water?” she inquired. “No, tap water’s fine,” I insisted, aiming to keep things light.
She handed over three miniature cups, barely enough to quench any real thirst. While I fetched our water, mom discreetly opted for a Coke, despite my water-only declaration. Just as I realized her switcheroo, I caught the server’s eye from across the room. Her glance was sharp, a silent acknowledgment of the tiny transgression.
Panic flickered within me. “Are we going to get arrested for this?” I wondered, half-joking yet genuinely concerned over the potential fallout of such a harmless act in this small town eatery. As we sat down to enjoy our cheesesteaks, the tension lingered, the question hanging in the air-had our thirst for a good meal turned into a brush with the law?