Picture it, Mechanicsburg, PA, 2010.
Sorry, had to get the Sophia homage in there.
Anyway, I got to have a night out last night with a friend! YAY ME! YAY HUBBY home with the kids.
A friend and I decided to meet to have a late dinner at Red Robin. With a husband who is "off the meat", I don't get dead cow a whole lot, and every once in a while I crave it. In this case it was dead buffalo, but equally as tasty and a little less guilt creating.
However, the burger comes later.
On the way, I stopped for gas. Once we sat down at our booth (Remember BOOTH. It is being introduced in the first act.), I realized my hands smelled like the fuel I had recently procured (I've been playing a lot of Words with Friends.), so I went to the bathroom to wash them, leaving my rings in front pocket of my purse which was sitting on the BOOTH seat.
Or so I thought.
When I came back to the BOOTH, I got my rings out to put back on. Except one was missing. My. Engagement. Ring.
Within in a minute my friend and I the BOOTH seat off. That's when the poor host decided to intervene. Bless him, he was even polite as he approached the crazy lady, and when he found out I was looking for my ring, he didn't act like he had a cornered animal on his hands anymore. He went into action!
Unfortunately, the ring was not in the BOOTH seat. It was in this little crack between the booth and the wall.
My friend was all into trying to fish it out, she was on a mission, but I think the Red Robin staff was afraid of a lawsuit or something, and they kinda got her out of the way. So the two of us sat munching sandwiches while at least four Red Robin employees fashioned device after device trying to fish the ring out.
Finally, several straws wrapped with a napkin and duct tape, natch, in the hands of the manager did the trick. I hugged each and every one of them, completely ignoring their various levels of discomfort.
I needed a brownie sundae to calm my nerves.