I had dinner with friends tonight to celebrate a Seattle bestie who is taking off on an adventure for the next six months. (PS - I'm very excited for her and sad for myself.)
Me: I think I'm going to get the Pork Bomber. No, maybe I want the club.
C: You can't. You're getting the Pork Bomber just because I want to hear you order it.
...A few minutes pass and our waiter comes to take our order...
Waiter: And what will you have?
Me: Uhh...I'll have the Pork Bomber.
Waiter: [Staring blankly while everyone else at the table giggles.] I'm sorry, what would you like?
Me: The Pork Bomber.
Me: And really? You made me say it again?
Waiter: [Laughing a little.] I really didn't hear you the first time.
Me: Sure you didn't.
In the end, the Pork Bomber was the wrong choice. It was less than delicious. And remember when I ate the Pork Bomber for the first time during my first weekend in Seattle?
2 comments:
I love this history of the Pork Bomber. So funny! Too bad you ordered it again and it wasn't good. Good times.
Butt Face.
The Pork Bomber always makes for a good story. And Buttface is still going strong!
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