On Tomato Residue and Runaway Waitresses

Michael, Todd, Christy and I went to lunch yesterday at Applebee's, and we had arguably the worst waitress on the face of the earth (for reasons other than the ones I'm about to document.) Michael, being a man of plain tastes (when it comes to food - I'm not trying to insult Kristen here) ordered a cheeseburger with only ketchup. Shortly after, we saw our waitress get in a car outside of our window, buckle her seatbelt, light a cigarette, and drive away. (We still didn't have any food.) A few minutes later she drove back into the parking lot and then brought us our food - including Michael's cheeseburger, laden with tomato/lettuce/onion.

Horrible Waitress: Sorry about all of the stuff on your cheeseburger - it's my bad. I told them. My bad. You can just take it off. Sorry - my bad. (Michael was picking off those evil vegetables like they were preparations of Naegleria fowleri that were carrying maps titled: "To Michael's Cribiform Plate and Beyond".)
Me: I think she had to drive to the mid-90s to get that phrase.

I hate that medical school has stolen my sense of humor.

In other news, if you read the comments on this post, you'll learn from one uncouth commenter named "Beepy" that my blog is far inferior to The Fake Doctor. You know, in case you were wondering.