Endless crab legs: Is that too much to ask?
My mom and I love seafood. My dad? Not so much. He hates shellfish and will only eat actual fish. Which is fine with us. When we all go to restaurants, we compromise, if compromise means going to a restaurant where steak is a specialty and seafood is an afterthought. Moving on.So my mom and I decided to go to Red Lobster, not because we love their food so much, but because they're having an all-you-can-eat crab legs special. We planned to go on Friday night, right after my mom picked me up from work. Imagine my surprise, then, when I saw my father in the car, too. I asked if my mom had dragged him along, but she said that he'd invited himself. Typical. My dad is a clingy person, and my mom isn't that way at all, so they have this pattern of approach/avoidance that would be really funny if they weren't my parents. Okay, it's still funny anyway, but not as much as it would be otherwise.
We drove to Red Lobster, and noticed that there were approximately 50 people outside the restaurant, all of whom were clearly waiting for seating. I went inside and found out that the wait would be at least an hour and a half, so we promptly left. At that point, I was ready just to call it a night and to go home, since I really only wanted crab legs, but I could see that I wouldn't be getting off that easily. My father said, "Where next?" and then my mom started to suggest other local seafood restaurants.
We went to Legal Seafoods, a restaurant I'd never been to before, but I didn't have a good feeling about the whole thing. I went in first and made our reservations, and then my mom and dad came in. My dad looked as though he was walking to a scheduled appointment for his own castration. I said, "We don't have to eat here," but he martyred, "That's fine. Don't worry about me." My dad is so dramatic. I got him a menu to look through, but he didn't seem to find anything that he liked. There was no way in hell that I was going to sit across the table from him watching him look as though someone had just kicked his puppy. I told him so, and then he said that he'd just go sit in the car and listen to the baseball game. Later, I realized that it would have served him right if I had taken him up on that offer. At the time, though, I told him that we didn't need to eat there, and my mom backed me up and suggested Ruby Tuesday's, which was, conviently, right next door.
Of course, a good martyr doesn't give in easily, so practically had to beg him to leave. Once he did, things were fine, except I was really pissed with him for coming with us when he knew that we were going to have seafood and then being a big baby aboutt he whole thing. We had an okay dinner at Ruby Tuesday's, but it took so long that I missed the beginning of Dead Like Me.
Way to go, Dad.
