A fly flew around her as she talked to us. She tried shooing it away and it dive-bombed into her gravy.She had been talking so much very little of her chicken steak had been eaten. This sort of grossed her out. She paused wondering whether to eat it or not and we discussed the issue at hand. The fly was on the north side of her gravy covered chicken. I would have started eating at the south and worked my way up to the fly and stopped.
A waitress came to fill glasses and I told her. "There's a fly in Steph's gravy."
"Did your food come with a fly in it?"
I interrupted, "No, the fly wasn't in her steak; the fly flew into her gravy and drowned."
"Do you want us to replace your chicken fried steak?"
Steph, being the nice person she is, wasn't sure if she wanted them to go to all the bother yet she wasn't too crazy about eating her food.
The new waitress who wasn't sure about policy, said she would check with her boss.
Soon he arrived, "Is there a fly in your food?"
Since I was on the outside I spoke for Steph," No, the fly dive bombed her gravy and drowned." By this time we had finished eating. Another steak was cooked for her and placed in a doggie bag The manager had a sense of humor thanked us ( her) for killing the fly.
Steph eating her birthday ice cream in the saddle.
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