Ford Madox Ford, one of those pretentious modern writers, had his narrator declare throughout the entirety of The Good Soldier"" that it was ""the saddest story."" But really, what did he know? The following is one of the saddest stories I have ever heard, let alone experienced. And, of course, it involves food.
To begin with some background, I have a very large family. There are five kids, excluding my two stepsisters, and we all have our own opinions about where we should dine on a given night. My brother is a die-hard sushi fiend, one of my sisters loves pizza, the other sister has a taste for more refined cuisines like French and my youngest brother always wants hibachi-style Japanese food. But there is one place we all can agree on, and it's probably the most random type of restaurant ever - the Jewish deli.
The deli in my town is pretty much a local joint. The walls are decorated in tacky seashells, and it looks downright ghetto. But the turkey on rye, sauerkraut and thick-cut french fries (not necessarily together) are all unmatched. We love it and never get tired of it. My mom likes to go there too, so basically, it's perfect. But like I said, this is the saddest story. It does not end well.
To add to the ""dive"" quality of this restaurant, the waitresses are always the same. They are young girls, but they have also been there forever. I know that doesn't make sense, but just go with it. I think this is the deli's attempt for a more personal experience, which is nice. We accept that this place definitely does not have white tablecloths.
I remember the story like it was yesterday, except it happened about three years ago. One night, we were all at the deli about to get our eat on. The waitress was taking our order and everything was going great. We were carrying on a good conversation, my brothers were busting each other's chops as usual and it was a good time. It's about to get really sad.
Side note: my brother is one of those gross adolescent boys who, in his youth, thinks it's funny to use bodily functions as a means of entertainment. The girls in my family think this is disgusting, but he does it anyway.
So the waitress came over to our table. She was carrying a bunch of plates, all of our sandwiches, fries, etc. She placed the items in front of their rightful eater and everything was fine.
She did a side-sweep of the drinks and went to get my brother a refill of his Dr. Brown's Cream Soda (a must-try if you haven't before). The waitress snuck around the back of my brother's chair to put the cup back, but at that same exact moment my brother let out the biggest fart any of us had ever heard. Literally, this was a sonic boom.
Immediately, my brother started to laugh so hard he was crying. All of us were screaming at him, and the waitress hightailed it out of our table's five-yard radius in an embarrassed/hilarious frenzy. It's not like we were asked to never return, but it was safe to say that at that point our bridges were burned for good.
So that brings me to the end of my story. A story of how my brother ruined the deli for our entire family. I mean, let's be serious, he farted right in the waitress' lap. The next time my family got a craving for some pickles and Russian dressing, we had to find a new provider. However, no place could ever compare to our first deli, and that fact makes this the saddest story ever. Eat that, Ford Madox Ford!
If you have a replacement deli for Ariel and her family - minus her little brother - e-mail her at akraut@wisc.edu.
