Who Is This Crabby Woman?

I'd like to say that it was lack of sleep or the impending illness I feel coming on, but truthfully, it's more than likely not that. I'd like to say that it's not me, but my hubby would roll his eyes and laugh at that one. I don't know when it's coming on. I can't seem to control it. Before I know it, I open my mouth and out comes EXACTLY what I really think. No filter.

Today, it was the poor server at my friendly neighborhood Applebees. I ordered a bowl of french onion soup for my sore throat. What I was served was a soggy crouton and the smallest ration of broth that I'm sure would rival concentration camp cuisine. Oh, and it came with a plastic spoon! The plastic spoon that when put into the bowl was not even covered with broth. Pitiful, really.

The next thing I remember is the horrified look on the server's face when I explained to him in DETAIL that such a pittance of soup was NOT what I had ordered. I had ordered a BOWL of soup and this surely was NOT representative of a BOWL of soup. I went so far as to suggest that he bring this egregious error to his kitchen manager's attention so that he could remedy the problem. Picture a deer in the head lights and you know what my server looked like. Picture a look of slight amusement and "you're not married to her" eyes and you know what my hubby looked like.

Our server brought out two new "bowls" of soup. I use the term "bowls" loosely as they were exact replicas of the aforementioned problem. I couldn't help but complain about the price soggy croutons paraded around as soup cost these days. And that's when I felt old. I was ready to go to the mat over the price of a "bowl" of soup. Who is this woman that I've become? I'm beginning to feel like Kathy Bates in Fried Green Tomatoes, "TOWANDA!!"