Amy Brower and Ben Farmer got engaged last night. Amy has been Amanda’s best friend since forever. She called us this morning and told us all about it. He did a good job- he’d gone out and bought an outfit- a coat, slinky black dress, the works, then took her out to Angus Barn. They had a great night then he said he had to get home after dropping her off. She was upset because the night had been so nice and said she was tired of having to say good bye (he lives a good ways away), and I think expressed some disappointment, then he said something to the effect of “Did you think I was going to propose?” (it’s been an issue), and then he did. I don’t think I’m conveying the story very well at all. Maybe I’ll get Amy to write it up.

The mail came early today, and we got a notice that Amanda was going to have to wait another 60 days for her insurance to kick in due to either a lapse in coverage or a pre-existing condition. Neither one is applicable, because she was dropped from the insurance we had and put on her company’s insurance (both with Blue Cross) the same day. Seems like Blue Cross screwed something up, and of course there’s nobody available to speak to today. Amanda was pretty pissed about this, because it means she’s been paying for insurance for about a month now, but hasn’t been covered. I’m sure something will be worked out for it, but with all the traveling we’re set to do next week, it’d be really good to have the insurance.

Amanda and I met (she’d left earlier to do some shopping for me) at the new Bear Rock Cafe at the mall. I’d been to Bear Rocks in Cary and in Greensboro (as far back as the late college days) and always been fine with the service. Scott has been going to this new one lately (they have Wi-Fi) and Amanda has gone once or twice for lunch with people from work, and neither said anything bad about it. The service today was terrible though. Maybe it was because Christmas is next week, I don’t know, but it took us about 40 minutes to get our food and when I finally got mine it was wrong. I took it back and asked for it without mayo (like it said on the ticket) and one of the girls making the food was mouthing off to the guy who asked her to remake it. I’m not exactly sure what she said, sounded like maybe she’d already made my sandwich and it had been put with the wrong ticket maybe. I don’t know, but the guy said he’d bring it out in three or four minutes when it was done. Ten minutes later I went back and asked about it, and it was just sitting next to the counter where it had been made. On top of that, at one point a guy had been helping a customer and a girl walked up with a container full of plates and glasses and she told the guy to move. He told her to wait a second because he was helping a customer and as soon as the customer left, she started berating him because the container was heavy and she was about to drop it. I can understand that to a point, but she loudly said, “The customer can wait.” You just don’t say that in a restaurant, especially when it was obvious that that customer, like myself, had been waiting forever for their food. She should have just said to the guy, “Can you move, I can’t hold this much longer” or something to that effect.

Anyway, we did some shopping after that and I walked around trying to think of what to get Pup Pup and David. I walked by The Sorts Fan Attic (where we got my Duke hat the first day of this past NCAA tournament) and saw that Kentucky, who hasn’t been doing too well lately and is ranked somewhere in the 20s now, was beating Louisville, who is ranked 4th. I walked down to the Time Warner store to watch the rest of the game (only a few minutes left) and called my dad, who had just gotten in and was turning on the game. Kentucky ended up beating them and proving that Louisville’s cupcake schedule thus far had caused them to be overrated.

After that I finished up buying things for Amanda and came home. Ben called and asked if we’d like to meet him and Jessica out at Blue Water for their anniversary dinner. I called Amanda, who was still out, who agreed to go as long as they didn’t mind having someone else with them on their anniversary. Ben said they’d done their together stuff by getting massages earlier in the day and they’d love to have us. Amanda got home just in time for us to leave, but on the way there Ben said that Blue Water was too full with parties and they were going to try The Oceanic, so I told them to see if my brother was working.

Adam was indeed working, so we got sat in his section. I went to the bar and picked up a $30 gift card for the Lambeths which is good at any of the restaurants those people own- Blue Water, Oceanic, Eddie Romanelli’s and Henry’s. We felt bad because we hadn’t gotten everyone in the group to pool together for a gift, but they didn’t mind.

Adam apologized for his service to us later, although we all thought it was fine. He said it wasn’t up to his normal standard, but in his defense there were two large parties next to us. He also told us how one couple stiffed him. The lady was downing tea like a fish goes through water and he had a hard time keeping her glass full. She kept raising it to him and pointing at it. When he told me that I imagined it in a very condescending manner, but he wasn’t too bothered by it, so maybe she didn’t do it that way. But when they left, the man asked what the little thing you put your money in was for, and Adam told him it was for the tip. The guy belly-laughed in his face. It pisses me off now just thinking about it. I hate to stereotype, but there’s a reason that waiters and waitresses generally don’t like waiting on certain types of people. I won’t say what kinds of people they were (I’m not necessarily talking about race), but when I was waiting tables, even people who fit these people’s descriptions hated waiting on them most of the time. Obviously you can’t go into a situation thinking off the bat that you’re going to get stiffed, but it’s one thing to get stiffed and quite another thing entirely to be laughed at when you merely mention the word “tip.”

Really, it burns me.