Some of you have heard me tell this story before, but just read it anyway, because it's the best story of all time.
Back when I was in high school, I did all of your typical high school activities. I listened to a lot of Green Day, watched a lot of Scrubs, and bought a lot of clothes from American Eagle. I also ate a lot of Olive Garden. I mean, a lot. Every Friday afternoon, my friends and I would loiter in the parking lot of the Carytown Starbucks for three hours, trying to decide what we would do that night. Approximately 50% of the time, we would end up at Olive Garden.
One year, we were trying to decide what we would do for Daniel's birthday, and to nobody's surprise, we settled on going to Olive Garden for dinner. Even though we were only 17 years old, we apparently had the dietary habits of people who are 71 years old, because we arrived at the Broad Street Olive Garden at 5pm, long before the next patron showed up. Now, our favorite part of Olive Garden was obviously the bottomless salad and breadsticks. Not surprisingly, it took only a few minutes for this group of mid-pubertal teenagers to devour the first basket of breadsticks. And another. And another. And another.
We kept going, until the waitress finally came out and told us, "You guys need to slow down on the breadsticks. Our bread lady literally cannot keep up with you."
To this day, I still don't know what my favorite part of this story is: the fact that Olive Garden actually employs a "bread lady," or the fact that she couldn't keep up with our ravenous appetites. Cheers to you, bread lady, cheers to you.
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