My Favorite Person Today

Because The Bride wants to hear more about my mother and less about my blankets, I will tell you that I brought her home from the hospital – for the third time – last Tuesday.  I don’t think she will mind my telling you that she needed surgery to remove a large mass on her ovary and while they were in there, they just took the rest of her reproductive system.  Then she developed an infection, then she had an allergic reaction to the anti-biotics.  She is nauseous and in pain most of the time, but she doesn’t have cancer, which is, I think the important thing.

So. Tuesday night.  I will spare you the debacle, but the punchline is that it took two pharmacies and over two hours of my time to get the drugs that she needed.  And no one seemed particularly interested in the fact that I’d been waiting all freaking night for this stuff.  I was sorta hating the world right then.

So today, I walked into the Noodles & Company in Glenview.  I am a serious regular.  I have regular orders and a regular table.  I generally come in by myself, on the early side of the rush, order some pasta and read my book.

Today, I decided to bring home stuff for my mother.  I asked for a bowl of pasta for myself, and some other stuff to bring home.  This is not the first time in the last month that I have done this, but the young lady at the register was a bit thrown.  She called over a more senior staffer, who also had trouble making it happen.  I realized I was making things difficult and was ready to tell them to just place it in two separate orders.  It didn’t make much difference.  Then Stacy saw me.

She punched my order in, in about five seconds, while asking how I am because she hasn’t seen me in awhile.  I told her that my mother was still laid up, which was why I was placing a complicated order.  She didn’t ask for details, just whether Mom was going to be ok, which she is.

She said that she would bring my pasta out right away, and make the carryout order when I was ready to go.  Then she comped my bowl of pasta.  “Don’t even (argue),”  she said.  “It wasn’t a problem order and you shouldn’t have had to wait.”

Can I tell you?  One friendly acquaintance with whom I do business noticed that I was having a crappy time and made my day.  So:

Dear Noodles & Company:  Glenview.  Stacy.  Rocks.

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