The Olive Garden is to Italian Food as 10 Things I Hate About You is to William Shakespeare. – Me

I do not remember the above being on my SAT (possibly because I took the SAT before the movie was released), but if it had been on it I’m certain I would have gotten it right.

My mom, Lauren and I went to The Olive Garden in Macon last night. They both seemed to enjoy their food. I, on the other hand, wanted to set the place on fire and roast marshmellows over the open flames as I danced in my snake skin cowboy boots and sang “la la la.”

The chef who made the spaghetti with meat sauce I ordered should be tarred and feathered. He should be forced to make a blueberry pie and then throw it in his own face. He should be forced to rent Gigli, In the Army Now, and Glitter from Blockbuster. He should be forced to watch me dance in my snake skin cowboy boots as I sing “la la la.”

Until last night, I had never in my life asked a waitress to take back my food. When I order a steak, I ask it to be cooked medium-well. If a waitress brings me back a medium, I suck it up and eat it like a trooper. Inconveniencing a hard-working waitress is just something I do not do. But last night…

I descibed the sauce to Lauren and my mom as an unholy mixture of ketchup and oregano. But in hindsight, my saying that is a disservice to ketchup, oregano, and all things unholy.