Leave 'em Wanting

(Note: This piece is full of dialect. Down here we -- most of us, anyway -- know it's not Standard English. We just like to talk this way sometimes.)

Down here in the South we're just eat up with couth. That's why The Department took us all out to The Upscale today for our Holiday Luncheon.

For those of you who might not have heard tell of it, Upscale is one of the high class joints in Greenville. You can tell because it's right next to the TJMaxx and just down Haywood Road from the Mall. Also it has little lights along the floor inside so you can see where you're supposed to walk.

Don't get me wrong. I got no complaints about the ambience, or even the decor. Upscale is a classy joint, and I've eaten in some of the classiest. And this ain't no franchise, either. There's only one Upscale.

Anyways, we straggled in about 11:30 and were immediately directed to the big banquet room. And it was big: big enough for about forty folks, even if we did have to play like we liked each other, we had to sit so close. Each place setting had a little saucer (what the high-toned might call a bread plate), two forks, a knife, and a cloth napkin, folded up real neat-like. (The napkin was black: another sign of class.) Oh, and a goblet with ice water. There was a single page menu, photocopied, and it didn't have prices, because The Department was paying.

I ordered the Seafood Thermidor, which is lobster, crab, and shrimp in a white-wine cream sauce, covered with melted cheese. The menu said it was en casserole, which means it was served in a little round dish right out of the oven. The server (what we would normally call a waiter, but we was in high-class society) told us we were also going to have a salad with house dressing, garlic mashed potatoes, and French-style green beans. Very nice.

And the salad was very nice. They were a little bit skimpy on the vinagrette, but they cut the tomato up into little squares. There was something with roots on it, but I didn't want to look uncouth, so I ate it anyway. I sipped on my water, waiting for the sweet iced tea, but it wasn’t showing up, so I figured it was coming with the entrée.

Finally, my en casserole came out. It was very nice, but there wasn’t much of it. It was about two inches across. I could have covered it with my green beans. Now I’m sure that some folks would eat a meal like that and say, “Good lord, I don’t think I can move for the rest of the afternoon!” I don’t know any of those people. Well, that might not be entirely true. I know a couple artsy types who wear black turtlenecks in July and weigh about nine pounds. But you know what I mean.

I ate it. All of it. It was delicious. It was one of the best things I have ever eaten. And then it was gone. Just like that. It’s taken you longer to read this story than it took me to eat that Thermidore.

I looked sadly at the little white bowl. I still had some roll left, so I tore some off and wiped up the leftover sauce and ate it. I looked up just in time to see the server successfully cover his horror. So I used the rest of my bread to finish it up. I reached for my tea, and it still wasn’t there. Maybe they’ll bring it with dessert.

The speeches started. They were nice. My stomach rumbled through them, waiting for dessert. There was no dessert. There was no tea. There was no coffee.

The last speech was made, and we all went back to the office.

I stopped on the way back and got a pack of peanuts and a Coke.

On the way back I realized how good these guys were at marketing. The food was outstanding, the service was impeccable, and the portions were small. It made me want to go back and finish my meal.

Because it really is true what they say: “Always leave ’em wanting more.”