Last weekend, JG and I went out to dinner with the help of a gift card we received over the summer. The restaurant’s website specified business casual attire (fancy!), and the dining room was quiet and peaceful, although its decor was a little zany. The chairs were upholstered in leopard print and the art on the walls depicted cats of all kinds in various human outfits. We took it in stride, and the hostess seated us next to the fire place.
I wanted to order a drink, but there was only a wine and beer menu. Once again, I kicked myself for not taking the effort to find even one wine I like. Much to my shame, I am rather paralyzed without a mixed drinks menu, partially because I like to be reminded of what goes into everything, but also because I feel more comfortable when I know how much things cost. I went back and forth, but I was ready when the waiter came to get our orders.
“I’ll start with a cup of the crab bisque, and I’d like the seared scallops for my entree,” I said. “And … could I have a dirty martini?”
In that split-second before the waiter responded, I knew it was coming, and I wasn’t prepared. The Vodka Question.
Let me rewind to our honeymoon. I ordered a cosmo, and when the waiter asked me what kind of vodka, all I could remember was the dire warning not to say “top shelf.” I timidly responded, “Bottom shelf?” And then JG laughed at me, and really, has not stopped since.
Back at the restaurant, my mind swirled as the waiter asked, “What kind of vodka would you like?”
“Bottom shelf, bottom shelf!” rang in my brain, but I knew I couldn’t say it. I automatically looked straight at JG with a panicked glint in my eyes.
“She’ll have the house vodka,” JG said. Right! “House” is the right answer!
When the waiter finally left, I said to JG, “Please, please, please, whenever I order a vodka-based drink, remind me what to say beforehand.”
“I was going to, but then I thought you’d tell me that you knew what to say.”
“No, I didn’t even think about it.”
“Okay, I will. You know that when you look at me for the answer and I say ‘house,’ the waiter thinks I’m the cheap husband, right?”
And that is just one reason why JG is always what I’m most thankful for year after year.
9 comments
i’m laughing out loud! ( i refuse to type “LOL”).
A mixed drink with house vodka is fine, but really, if you’re drinking a martini, you should reach for the medium shelf at least. Bottom shelf anything is pretty terrible! It’s only another dollar or two at best and the result is worth it!
i’m confused, i thought a dirty martini had gin & vermouth, not vodka … ? i’ve never had one with vodka. Nonetheless, i loved reading about your experience.
I HATE that question too! I wish that bartenders and waiters would just assume that you want the cheapest liquor unless you say a specific type! Honestly, mixed drinks are overpriced so I go as cheap as possible
p.s. It’s cool that I came across your blog, I just graduated from Immaculata University which is close to where you’re at.
I would go with Grey Goose every time. But honestly, your answer of bottom shelf is the most hilarious thing I’ve read all day!
I never know what to say in that sort of situation either. I always just ask, though. The waiter might be laughing at me but if so he does it in secret.
So I have no experience with alcoholic drinks, so my comment isn’t about that. Just wanted to say I was flipping through Martha Stewart’s Christmas magazine last night and saw your car in the Subaru ad! I had seen it from the photo on your blog, but it was cool to see it in person!
HAHAHA OH, RaRa. This is hilarious. I love JG’s response
I love this. I had no idea there was a such thing as “bottom shelf” (I think it’s called “rail”? Because that’s what I order too!)
At my first ever business dinner, I was freaking out about what kind of wine to order. I only like white and at the time I didn’t even really know the names of whites, but I didn’t want to look like an idiot asking for “white wine please!”. nor did I want to accidentally order something really expensive. I planned to ask for Pinot Grigio, which was something I knew was pretty common and hopefully would require no follow-up questions. But when the waiter came around, I accidentally said “White Zinfandel”. It came out and it was PINK. Oops.
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