The Fly

This entry is part of the series The Fly

This was the first time I had eaten at Richmond’s. I ordered: Soup du jour, Prime Rib, medium rare,  potatoes au gratin, green beans with baby carrots, coffee, and apple pie.

The waiter brought my coffee and soup.  I put a package of equal, and two creams, in the coffee and stirred. I unfolded my napkin, and laid it across my lap. I picked up my soup spoon and stopped. There was a fly in my soup.

“Waiter, waiter.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Do you serve flies? “

“Oh, no sir.”

“Well, there’s a fly in my soup. Look.”

I held up a spoon full of soup, with a fly floating in it.

“Oh, my. Let me get you a new bowl.”

“I think you better get the manager, instead.”

“Yes, sir.”

An important looking man in a tux came to the table.

“May I help you sir?”

“Yes. Your waiter served me soup with a fly in it.”

He looked at me, with mild disdain. “That’s an old one, sir.”

“An old what?”

“An old trick. People who couldn’t usually afford to eat in a fine restaurant, sometimes bring in a dead fly for the soup, or a worm for the salad. An old one, sir.”

I was enraged. I pulled out my wallet, opened it up, and stuck it under his nose. There was at least a thousand dollars in there.

“Does this LOOK like I can’t afford your fine restaurant?”

His attitude changed immediately. “I’m sorry, sir, but we do get the other kind. Your dinner will be free of charge.”

“I intend to write a scathing review of this place on Yelp.”

“Please don’t.  I can give you a note, good for two more free meals. Tax and tip, included.”

“I  see that you mean well, so I’ll let you off the hook. You better bring salad, instead of soup, and double check it for worms.”

“Yes sir. Nothing like this, will never happen again.”

I finished an excellent meal, with the waiter and manager hovering in the background.

They both escorted me outside and waited till the parking valet, brought  my classic white Jaguar, XKE 120 around. I tipped the attendant five dollars. They all waved as I left.

I drove  six blocks, then pulled over and parked. I turned on the dome light, and took out the  match box. I opened it up, and looked inside. There were still four flies left. I was good for the rest of the week.

Read MoreThe Fly Returns >>


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