May 26 2023
Omnis, Carrie Brady Hair, and Broken To-Go Containers
Every month or so, I go out to dinner with some recently-retired ladies from work which has been really nice because I am a huge fan of keeping in touch with people. Some might say slightly obsessive and unwilling to let go, but you know, I’m just being me over here.
Anyway, Marlene chose Rico’s for our most recent dinner and I was cracking up because way back when I was dating Psycho Mike, my grandma gave me a gift certificate to Rico’s because it was given to her before my Pappap died and they never got around to using it. She said she had no use for it and wanted us to have it. If she knew what a piece of shit Mike was, I’m sure she would have been like, “Why don’t you and Christy go and have a nice BFF dinner at Rico’s and leave your abusive boyfriend at home to cry about it?”
The gift certificate was the PAPER KIND IN AN ENVELOPE! That was how long ago this was. Sigh.
We decided to go there for our shitty one-year anniversary, so this must have been 1997, the fall after senior year (or, you know, freshman year of college for those who weren’t high school drop-outs lolololol ugh).
Yes, the pencil-thin eyebrows align with the date, lol. This was also when I had a Carrie Brady-from-DAYS hairstyle, literally pulled out pages from Soap Opera Digest to take to the salon.
“Give me the Carrie Brady but make it puffy,” is apparently what I requested.
I also remember buying that shirt at Contempo (RIP to my FAVE STORE) specifically for this stupid date. I do not remember what I ordered (I was a vegetarian already so probably plain-ass pasta), if I liked it, what Mike ordered – all that has stuck in my mind for all these years is the fact that I supposedly knew this was an establishment with valet parking and PURPOSELY didn’t tell Mike so that he would be HUMILIATED when we rolled up in his beat-up silver Omni circa 198-something.
That definitely set the tone. I’m sure it was a wonderful drive home that night, his anger brewing all throughout dinner like a strong pot of vitriol, providing him with LOTS of energy to remind me over and over how much of a STUPID BITCH I am.
Um, yeah anyway. My Rico’s Replay was much better! Better company for sure. Jill joined us this time and it is always really nice to see work friends “outside of work” and by that I mean in actual real life.
Being a vegetarian, “upscale” restaurants always fall flat with me because I have nothing to judge it on other than pasta. My only option was the angel hair in a cream sauce. It was good! Was it $27 good? Um…no lol.
I was the youngest person in that whole place though, that’s for sure. I’m sure it was super uncouth of me to take a picture of food but I don’t think anyone was looking and also, who cares?
The only negative part of the evening was that our server was an asshole. I rarely complain about these things because I have a ton of respect for people in the service industry. I know that it’s hard ass work and customers can be such dicks. But this older woman server was just not nice. Even apart from the fact that she was extremely inattentive, she was just very rude and cure. I was watching her interact with other tables, clearly occupied by “regulars,” and she was like a completely different person with them.
When I asked for a box, she brought me a plastic container that was cracked all the way down one side! I didn’t notice until after I put my leftovers in it. I called her back over and asked if I could have a new one and at first, it was like she wanted to argue that there was nothing wrong with it. She actually picked it up to inspect it like she didn’t believe me?! And then she said, WITH WHAT SOUNDED LIKE EXASPERATION, “Oh. I didn’t know it was like that” and stormed off to get me a new one. She could have just said, “Sorry about that” but somehow, she made me feel like it was my fault! Like what she wanted to say was, “It wasn’t like that when I gave it to you.”
I am clearly still fixating on this.
Anyway, I don’t care how much rich old people like Rico’s. I doubt I will ever be back. NOT EVEN IF SOMEONE’S GRANDMA GIVES ME A $100 GIFT CERTIFICATE.
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