Atomictumor

Last night AT and I dropped the kids off at my parents’ house to spend the night.  We decided we’d like to have a little something to eat somewhere we’ve never been before.  So we headed out toward Turkey Creek.
After cruising for a while, we decided on Mimi’s Cafe.  A large, attractive yellow building with some nicely manicured flowerbeds and bushes out front, it seemed a quaint place to go.  Once we sat down with the menu, we realized it was a little pricier than we had thougt.  I don’t expect cafes to have $15 entrees, but perhaps I’m just an under-educated country girl.
I ordered pork chops and AT got the chicken pot pie.  We waited for what seemed an eternity, sipping on water disguised as sweet tea.  When the food came, I was impressed.  It looked beautiful.  I had two large pork chops, on the bone, with a colorful veggie medley and backed potato.  Jake’s pot pie had a beautiful glossy crust on top.  We dug in.
And were completely let down.  Everything that should have been juicy and tender was dry and flavorless.  Instead of being creamy, the pot pie was yellow-colored broth with big hunks of bland, boiled chicken.
The waitress did the usual checking in on us, refilling our water/tea and asking how everything was.  “Fine, fine” we said, out of habit.  Then we talked amongst ourselves about why people say things they don’t mean.  Wouldn’t the world be a better place if people were honest about things?
A few minutes later, a female manager came by to ask how everything was.  We were honest.  She became very concerned and offered to box up my left-overs for me.  As she was walking away, she stopped her boss and told him what we’d said.  He came over, quite concerned and apologetic.  He offered to replace our food.  We pointed out that we were already done.  He looked at what was left of AT’s pie and assured us that it was absolutely not up to their standards and he would have a talk with the cooks immediately.
Then he said our meal was on the house.  AT told him that it wasn’t necessary, we had eaten and were full.  He said it would give him a clear concious and that he insisted.
We left the restaraunt feeling empowered.  We had broken character and had been open and honest about something and had been rewarded.  Would this newfound honesty work for everything?  Are there times when it pays to lie?
We decided that from now on, we’re going to try to be honest people.  But we have to define our honesty.  Will we be honest to the point of rudeness?  If we know someone’s feelings may be hurt?  How honest can a person be?
I’ve always tried to avoid situations that called for an honest opinion.  In that regard, I’ve been a wishy-washy person.  How different would my life be now if I spoke my mind when I was younger?  Would I have been more respected, perhaps even, dare I say it, popular?

How different would the world be if we all just dispensed with the mindless pleasantries, the hiding of feelings?  Are you willing to be honest with us?