It happens every time. My husband loves Chinese food so if we go out to eat, it’s high on the list of options. His favorite dish is Mongolian Beef. Years ago, while at his favorite spot, he picked it out and requested it from the drill-sergeant of a waitress who came out to take our order. Fortunately he was the last to order. After he orders she glares at him, leans in, and barks, “Mongolian Beef!” She grabs her menus, does an about-turn, shaking her head in irritation. We laughed so hard that we were alternately wheezing and gasping for air.
He looked around confused asked if he could be let in on the joke. The first person to catch their breath and compose a thought told him, “It’s Mongolian Beef.”
“I know that,” he said still confused.
“You said Magnolian Beef.” The terrible laughter erupted again, and he turned beef-, I mean, beet-red.
From that day till this, when we go out, he sits there on high alert while everyone else studies their menu. He knows what he wants. You can hear him practicing, mumbling under his breath, “Mongolian Beef.” “Mongolian Beef. Okay, I got it.” He refuses to make eye contact with us. We’re doing our best not to crack, but the memory is threatening to burst.
Drill sergeant marches out dutifully and takes orders. My husband is careful to go last. No eye-contact. He attempts to moisten his dry mouth and clears his throat. His voice cracks as he chokes and says, “I’ll have Magnolian Beef, please.”
She can’t believe it. If she’s told him once, she’s told him a million times. She walks off in disgust. It takes us the rest of our time there to scrape ourselves off the vinyl seats we’re lying on. One of these days she’ll smack him in the back of the head with that stack of menus…
What about you? What brain rut are you stuck in that makes you say the wrong thing?