In one of my books, I shared the following story:
When I was still young and pretty (I'm no longer young, of course), I went out with an ex-boyfriend. I think he was trying to win me back and impress me by bringing me to this really class restaurant.
When I saw the menu, I ordered the only thing I could pronounce - "steak". Then, the waiter asked
the question. What question? That question of questions when somebody orders steak - "How would you like your steak, ma'm?", the waiter asked politely.
I thought for what seemed to be ages. Honestly, I didn't know how to answer the waiting waiter. Sensing my ignorance, he said, "Would you like it rare, medium...". Finally, I got it! I said, "Well done, please."
My date must have also detected my lack of shall we say, class, that he never asked me out again.
Do you know what I
almost answered when the waiter asked, "How would you like your steak?" I would have answered, "Delicious!" Thank God for quick-on-the-draw waiters! He spared me from extreme embarrassment (not that I wasn't embarrassed already).
This incident happened many years ago. Why am I re-telling it? Because it dawned on me that it's a good thing that that guy and me never ended up together. He would not have made a good husband for me (or more accurately, I would not have made a good wife for him).
All of us commit boo-boos. But oftentimes, we should just laugh at these personal bloopers. In the greater scheme of things, they don't really matter.
Even my own genius of a father (God bless his soul), applied for a
professional driver's license because he was a lawyer. (Get it? Professional...lawyer? ha ha)
So what's at stake when we commit social blunders? In my book, not much. Just a brief reddening of the face. And when we learn to laugh at our own mistakes, that's the best kind of humor.
I had a client meeting today. We ate steak and mussels at Slice N' Dice. Nice food. There was delicious soup, too.
