Oh yes...there will be grease

I have neglected to fully describe a recent dining experience that every American must know about.

A couple of weeks ago, my son had a late Saturday afternoon game in New Hyde Park. It was about 7 PM by the time we got out of the rink. We were hungry.

We passed through Westbury, looking for food. Our first choice was California Pizza Kitchen. We drove over, parked, and went inside. An hour and a half wait for a table for two. Forget it. We packed up and drove a couple hundred feet to Olive Garden. Got out, same story. Over an hour for a table. Undaunted, we tried again. Casual dining establishments in Westbury are arranged in descending order, so our next stop was Ruby Tuesday's. No dice, and no food.

One last chance. Across the street, a Boston Market sat alone and lonely. We pulled in and parked behind the restaurant. The parking lot was flooded after a week of rain, but we slogged through a few inches of parking lot water with slick on top.

Boston Market always gives me indigestion. I haven't ascertained blame - it could be the greasy chicken, or it could be the greasy stuffing. In order to beat the odds, I decided on a sirloin sandwich. They didn't have sirloin. I ended up with a chicken sandwich after all.

I took our tray and navigated around a wet floor, complete with wet floor sign, to a table. The table was gaily decorated with two plastic carnations, leaving not quite enough room for the tray. We sat down and started our consolation meal.

An employee with a mop and bucket trundled past us while we were in mid-meal. He looked like he'd been doing quite a bit of mopping. An older couple at the next table asked the guy why there was so much water on the floor. Mop guy looked around and responded, "It's been raining all week. The sewer overflowed," then continued on his shit-soaking-up ways.

Soon thereafter, the indigestion struck.