Restaurant rules

Today I rode the metro all by myself. I even switched colors. Why? To meet some newfound friends for dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. Of course I had the Hawaiian BBQ, with half to go. This was yet another learning experience:

I arrived late, culturally appropriate. When the waitress came to take my order I spoke in my native tongue to speed things up. Plus, my hands were usurped by taking my coat off.

What a big mistake.

And I knew better.
'Why?' -you may be thinking. Did my Deaf friends judge me? Don't think so. Did I stop signing? No.
But the moment I spoke, it signaled the waitress that I communicated like her and, naturally, she gravitated toward me. So when she addressed the table, she only looked at me. When she wanted to know if they want water, she looked at me. When she wanted to know if we were ready for the check, you guessed it; she looked at me.

Once I realized her dependency on me and lack of acknowledging the other side of the table, I began to use my hands with a very low voice volume. And avoided eye contact. Mission accomplished: she started looking around to everyone.

Moral of the story, don't talk with your mouth(ful) at the dinner table.

:-)
Amber & Me sharing some tunes.


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