After years of dining out, few things can throw me for a loop. Strange or inattentive service, exotic foodstuffs, unbearable dining rooms - all these just make for good stories later, once you’ve survived the experience. But I still remember the first time a waiter asked me if I wanted bottled water with my meal. It was slipped in so nonchalantly - as if anyone who dined at this august establishment wouldn’t dream of touching the simple common stock of hydrogen and oxygen molecules. People like us, the place seemed to silently scream, deserve something better. No other option was given to me, which conjured up the threat of dying a thirsty death if I didn’t agree to order the water.
