Proof I may be clinically mentally retarded #2

Yesterday I ordered lunch for a co-worker and myself. I did a search, found the phone number and menu of the restaurant, and called the order in. Please note that I did all of these things myself. I am not saying that because I am proud that I can accomplish such a task, it is just an important fact to note as we continue. And please continue with me, will you?

Fifteen minutes later I head out to the restaurant. I went up to the bar and informed them that I had a to-go order waiting for me. After a few minutes of the bartender searching the computer he stated that he didn’t see any to go orders. He headed in back to check with the kitchen and, nope, no order there either. I told him, rather indignity I might add, that I myself called this in and no, I could not have called any other locations. I started giving him my order so I could sit there sullenly for another 15 minutes waiting for it to be completed when he informed me that they do not even serve what I was ordering. Confused I looked around. I was in the WRONG restaurant. Not the wrong location mind you, a completely different restaurant than I ordered from.

Crap.

The place I ordered from was on the other side of town. I apologized to the bartender and took a shameful walk out to the car trying to diffuse the embarrassment with giggling. “Hehehe. Can’t believe I did this. Hehe. This is so embarrassing.” Just LEAVE RACHEL.

So, of course, I call my co-worker and let her know the situation. Partly because her food is obviously going to cold by the time I get back and partly because I knew she would laugh with me about it. (And, yes, she was laughing with me. Not at me. Thankyouverymuch.)

I get to the other restaurant. Repeat the trip to the bar and ask for my to-go. The bartender starts asking people frantically if they knew about a to-go order because, “Ohmigod, no one told me about a to-go order!”

Now, at this point it should have been obvious to me that AGAIN I had walked into the wrong restaurant. That the one I needed to be in was actually directly next door and even though they shared the same parking lot they were not ACTUALLY the same restaurant. But I am nothing if not oblivious to the world so, nope, just patiently asked her to take my order and she quickly informed that that they did not serve that item. Once again, I looked up and saw that, Oh, dejavu, this is not the right restaurant! Repeat giggling and a shameful exit.

Long story short, I did walk my sorry butt to the restaurant that was, literally, about 10 feet away and picked up the order. The price was cold pasta, and me feeling like maybe I should stop drinking and maybe even blow drying my hair upside down because apparently I do not have any brain cells to spare.