RhuBob Evans

If you see that little picture of me down to the right, it probably doesn't strike you as anything significant. However, that was taken at one of my rare breakfast appearances at an eating establishment. That was taken about a year and a half ago which shows you how rare that really is!

I know breakfast is the "most important meal of the day", but since I'm not a morning person, I'll gladly forgo nutrition for sleep!

Yesterday, I had to take the dog to the vet. After I picked him up from a grooming appointment last Wednesday, we had driven not more than 50 feet from Petsmart when someone decided that he had the right of way and barreled out of the lane, causing me to hit my brakes (he must have been a Vegas driver). As a result, Jack, who was making his way from the back seat to the front, was hurled face first into the front of the car. I waved the jackass in the car along.

Had I spied the blood on Jack before turning onto a major road, I would have cut the guy off and hurled him through the windshield. I pulled into Bob Evans' parking lot to wipe away the blood and make sure he was ok.

Turns out the dog had a slit on his eyelid that required stitching. So, after dropping him off at the hospital, my family wanted to go to Bob Evans for breakfast.

The table of six miscreants behind us had the manager over to their table for probably around 20 minutes during the course of their stay. I can speak from experience that it's during those times that you wish you had chosen a career path that didn't involve dealing with the general public.

What is there to complain about at Bob Evans, might I ask?

Though I could only hear snippets of the conversation, complaints didn't involve the food. There was discussion of the menu including prices and descriptions, but everyone seemed to be satisfied with their meals.

How much simpler can we make things for people?

When I go into a restaurant, I see what's there, maybe glance at the price, and then order. Yesterday, I wanted the Border Omelet (which I noticed came with tomatoes...which I hate). I asked if I could get them without. The server said that they were mixed in. So I got it with tomatoes and just picked them out while I ate it. No big deal.

But for some it is. I'm not sure what happens to people when they go out, but they get awfully weird. (Of course, they are leaving their natural habitat so maybe it's culture shock of some sort.)

I remember when I worked at Applebee's many moons ago. A mother and daughter came in and the daughter ordered a Caesar salad. However, I was instructed that I had to find out whether or not it contained Xanthan Gum (or some other odd ingredient). It's not because she was allergic (which I can understand)...it was because the daughter was a "model" and couldn't have it since it was "bad" for her health.

This was when I hadn't yet let people wear me down, resulting in the cynic you read here today. So I never had an opportunity to retort, "Eat the damn thing. You could stand to put on a few pounds you bag of bones." Instead, I begrudgingly sought out the ingredients and came back and told her what was in it (though I also threw in some snide comment I knew would travel over their empty heads).

That's why I think, no matter what, people should be forced to work with the public for at least a year, regardless of their lot in life. If you ever want to see the real world, abandon that tired MTV version and live it.

As for me...well, I've done my share (too much of it, I might add) so I can pass along the wisdom to others.

And that pic of me out for breakfast is not unlike spying Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster. No one snapped one of me yesterday because hopefully, people will spin yarns or sing songs in the mountains about my breakfast appearances someday, and my legacy will be ensured!

Until then, be on the lookout for that quiet cynic at a table near you. He might just be eavesdropping on your own rhubarb and writing about it soon!