This Friendship Is Fried

(I approach a table occupied by a young couple.)

Me: “Hello. I’m [My Name] and I’ll be your waitress. Can I get you something to drink?”

Young Man: “Hello. Um, yes.  I’ll have a [Soda Pop] and we’re ready to order, if that’s okay?”

Me: “Certainly, what can I get for you?”

(The young man, polite and well-spoken, places his order and I turned to the vacant eyed young lady with him. All empty smiles and mindless giggles, she inquires…)

Young Lady: “Hee, hee, hee. What’s a kwee-sa-dil-la?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

(She points to the quesadilla plate and I calmly explain the concept to her.)

Young Lady: “Hee hee! Oh, I don’t think I’d like that? What’s chicken ‘friend’ rice?”

(The young man takes on a look of pained embarrassment and I try to spare him by keeping my expression neutral.)

Me: “Its rice that’s been stir fried and had vegetables, egg, and chicken added to it.”

Young Lady: “Tee hee. Oh, so, it has shrimp in it?”

(Young man face palms.)

Me: “We have a shrimp fried rice plate that has shrimp in it.”

Young Lady: “No, no, no. I want that chicken ‘friend’ rice stuff.”

Me: “All right. So chicken fried rice and—”

Young Lady: “And that’s got shrimp, right?”

(Young man drops head to table and tries to disappear.)

Me: “Um, no, it has chicken but I can have them make shrimp fried rice instead.”

Young Lady: “No, no. I want chicken ‘friend’ rice with shrimp, not chicken.”