T-M-I

Today's TMI award is hereby bestowed to Wes,

the server who brought me soup tonight.*

We've all been there, the place where uncomfortable silence follows someone who has shared far too much information at the wrong time. Tonight that moment was at supper.

Our overly excited waiter, Wes, was very eager to talk to us. He was so excited that we were pretty sure that he was on some uppers.

The table of four pre-teen girls behind us was really flirting with him. He said they could come back in ten years and he'd take them out. They kept flirting with him anyway. His opening line to attract such distinguished flirtation?

"This is my best joke: Ask me if I'm a grape."

(them: Are you a grape?)

"Nope."

Yeah. So they fell for him with puppy-dog eyes. And he proceeds to tell them that he was engaged once and his fiancee was killed in a car accident, but it was kindof okay because she always knew that she wouldn't live to see 24. ... This, after his big opening grape line... The preteens didn't know what to say, besides "You're really 32?"

...

...It was a good time to be at the other booth, where no obligatory comments were necessary.

...

* I'm eating soup because I've got a wicked retainer-caused-sore in the top of my mouth that's super raw and eating anything else is no fun. It's been bothering me for several days now. Yesterday I could hardly eat anything.**

** This is an example of TMI.