Anyway, beforehand we had booked a reservation at an Italian restaurant to make it a proper date night.
Upon arrival we were shown to our seats and handed the largest menus I think I’ve ever seen. These things were like windsurfing sails. Looking around the restaurant I could see people struggling to keep their chairs in place as they fought against the air conditioning.
At one point I saw a crying child fly overhead.
After a few minutes the waitress came over to our table.
“Hi, my name is (I genuinely can’t remember); are you ready to order, or do you have any questions?”
I looked up at her with a wry grin and replied, “Yes actually, I do have a question; is it possible to get a larger menu? This one isn’t quite big enough.”
She smiled back and said, “Yes, I know. The print is just so small and difficult to read. We really need to make the whole thing bigger, sorry about that.”
At last, someone that gets it! She knew I was joking and ran with it, commenting on the size of the text on these huge, wobbling cardboard monstrosities. At last I had found someone that picked up on the subtleties of my English humour and gave as good as she got.
I was so happy.
After she had left, my wife (seeing my smile of satisfaction) leaned in, and said “You realise she thought you were serious, right?”