"A Country Girl Can Survive"by Carol Preflatish
origianlly published at Einkwell.com, February 10, 2002
I am an adult, a college graduate and a professional person. I am a country girl, but have
traveled to large cities, such as Los Angeles, Atlanta, St. Louis, and San Antonio with
no problems. However, after a recent trip to Indianapolis I decided that this country girl
is better off staying home in my cabin in the woods.
I had gone to the city to attend a trade show and because of the long drive, I reserved a
room at a very nice hotel. At dinnertime, which we call supper in the country, I pondered
my dining choices. It was either room service or eating alone in the hotel's restaurant.
After seeing that the cheapest thing on the room service menu was a ten-dollar hamburger,
I opted for the restaurant. Little did I know that was a big mistake.
I entered the elegant restaurant and politely told the hostess, "One for dinner." After
being seated at a table, I had my first indication that I was in over my head when the
hostess placed the napkin in my lap for me and handed me the wine list. Wine list? I
know nothing about wines. I told her that I would not be ordering any wine, so she left the
food menu with me and said my server would be right there.
Before long, I realized there were two little beady eyes ogling me. They belonged to
the lobster on the entr�e cart the waiter had just wheeled over. Those eyes were the
only part of that lobster that moved while it just laid at the middle of that cart. Back
and forth, left to right, they moved in unison while the waiter explained the different
cuts of meat available. I have eaten lobster before and enjoyed it very much, but the
only thing I could think of as I watched those eyes was how I used to catch crawdads
in my yard with my neighbor when we were kids.
I tried to shake that image out of my head while looking over the menu as the server
awaited my order. It was then that I noticed the prices on the menu. What I gotten
myself into? The cheapest item was sixteen ounces of chicken breast for twenty dollars
and that did not include the vegetables or salad. A pound of chicken! How was I going to
eat a pound of chicken?
I gave my order - salad, chicken breast, and a stuffed potato. While waiting for
my food, I glanced around the restaurant. The area where I was seated was a room
separated from the rest of the restaurant by a wall of windows. When the waiter left,
he positioned the cart on the other side of the window from where I sat. It was like I
was under surveillance with those lobster eyes shifting back and forth leering at me.
Perhaps he was trying to communicate to me, thanking me for not choosing him for my
meal.
While sitting there waiting for my food, I watched other patrons enter the restaurant.
One senior couple was seated near me. The server took the cart to their table just like
he did mine. At least those lobster eyes were no longer gazing me upon. I listened
as they placed their order. Now, they came up with a great idea. They ordered the smallest
steak on the menu, a twenty-ounce rib eye. However, they only ordered one steak and asked
that it be split in half, one half for each of them. I love seniors. They don't care what
they say and believe me, they did not mince words when they spoke to the waiter about the
prices.
By the time my food arrived, I was starved. I hate eating alone. There is no
conversation during the meal, other than occasionally telling the server that I was fine.
I ate quickly and then requested my check. I held my breath as I reached for the check
that my server had left next to me. I knew it would be bad, and it was. Forty-five dollars!
My chicken dinner had cost me forty-five dollars, including the tip. Do you know how
much chicken forty-five dollars would buy at KFC?
I am a country girl, always have been and always will be. This trip to the city has
not discouraged me from going again. However, I will think twice next time about
that ten-dollar hamburger on the room service menu before going to the hotel restaurant
again.