belfebe (belfebe) wrote,

Zombie Gnomes!

Me, pointing at a garden gnome who looks suspiciously gray and has closed eyes and outstretched arms: "Holy cow, what is that?"

ballistabob "It is a zombie gnome."

Me: "Really? I didn't think that there were zombie gnomes out there . . ."

ballistabob "Yeah, only that instead of brains, they go for ankles."

ballistabob's Mom: "It is not a zombie gnome! It is my Sleepy the Dwarf!"

Me, ballistabob, and laughing_fox: "Zombie gnome!"

A pic of the infamous resident at ballistabob's Mom's garden shall be making an appearance in this journal soon, plus laughing_fox is currently working on an animated icon. Stay tuned.

Anyhow, we went to ballistabob's folks this weekend and had a wonderful time. On Saturday, ballistabob's Mom, his Dad, Carlos, laughing_fox and her sweetie went out to a nice restaurant in Danville to celebrate Mother's day. To make a long story short, our Mother's day dinner coincided with several proms which in turn resulted in very slow service.

After a 1 hour wait and no food in sight, Carlos started complaining bitterly about being ravenous and "where's the beef?". During all this time he had been refusing to eat the freshly baked bread that they had been serving us on the grounds of "I Don't Want to Spoil my Appetite [TM]."

Half an hour later (and still no food) a very apologetic manager informs us that a) it will take 7 more minutes; b) they will send out more bread; and c) we will get free desserts.

Fifteen more minutes pass, and nothing.

By then Carlos is still insisting on not eating any bread and saving room for dinner. So we tell him "Carlos, we believe that there is a management policy of not serving dinner until everyone at the table has tried the bread."

Carlos rolls his eyes and, finally, takes a bite of the bread.

At which point the servers appear with his dinner and we all burst out laughing.

"Something happened here," says the manager.

"Don't worry about it," we tell him. "And don't forget the free dessert."

So next time we get slow service, we will blame it on the teen.

And we will make him eat the bread.

And if that doesn't do it, we will bring out the Zombie Gnomes.

We can then raid the kitchen while the gnomes gnaw at their ankles.

Let that be a lesson to them.

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