The Mushroom

I swear, Irony loves me. The only thing I hate more than the banana is the mushroom. Last week, I wrote about being ensconced in banana. So it's only fitting the the mushroom would take a swing at me. My husband and I went out last night for our usual "date night." We didn't make a plan ahead of time, so we spent a half hour driving up and down the highway looking for a place to eat. We finally settled on Arigato, a Japanese steakhouse where the chefs cook your food in the middle of a big table and set big fires and toss shrimp tails into their chef hats. A little expensive, but what the hey. We sat down at our table alongside six other strangers and ordered drinks. I got a lovely fruity fun drink called a Tokyo Rose. It had a cherry on top. We went around the table and ordered, and of course I ordered my lovely filet dinner because I always get the same thing, and I ordered it, as usual, without mushrooms.

Ten minutes later, a giant bowl of raw mushrooms walks up with a waitress behind it. "Someone order an appetizer of mushrooms?"

I lost it. It was one time that I wished I had my camera because the ridiculous size of this "mushroom appetizer" which who knew people even ordered a giant bowl of mushrooms?? was beyond imagination. The giant bowl of mushrooms is not on the menu. I was hysterically laughing and I finally took a breath to tell the waitress who was looking at me like I was crazy that I ordered my dinner withOUT mushrooms, did that count? And neither she, nor I, could figure out where the breakdown in translation occurred, because it was actually written down that I wanted my food without mushrooms. So it only remains for me to deduce that the giant mushroom bowl was sent to me from the world of Karma or Irony, as a joke, and they're over there yukking it up in the kitchen.