Fill 'er up

I am going out to dinner tonight, and I am ready. I am ready for a long wait to be seated. Ready to send back my burger for further annihilation if it is undercooked, which it often is. Ready to sit on the other side of the booth from some 4-year-old whose dining manners include full body thrusts against the back of the booth seat.

But most of all, I am ready to engage in the Silent War on My Water Glass.

I always ask for water when I go out to eat -- you used to get it automatically, like napkins and silverware; now you have to ask for it like it is an item on the menu -- and am almost always drawn, reluctantly, into a war with the waitperson on my water glass. Waitpersons seem to be of the opinion that I expect to ingest my entire day's ration of water at this one meal, as if I had deprived myself of liquid all day and am at the point of dehydration, and accordingly they rush to refill my water glass every chance they get.

Some patrons like this, the constant refilling of their water glass. And some of your better restaurants (the Double "T" Diner, Ma's Place, etc.) actually tell their waitstaff to never let the water in anyone's glass drop below half. These are the people who always wait on me. But here's the thing: I feel an obligation to drink everything in my glass. Now I do not have this same compunction to eat whatever's on my plate. My mother could tell you that. Waiters could pile on heap after heap of my favorite foods, and I would eat the same as I would've had only the original food been there.

But water is different. I cannot properly enjoy my dining experience with 8 or 12 or 24 ounces of liquid staring at me. I see that glass sitting there, sparkling with crystal clear water, and I have to start making a dent in it. So I start taking some sips, some big, some not so big. I am aiming to get to the halfway mark, at which point I feel I can relax somewhat and enjoy my food. I have Fulfilled My Water Duty.

But just when I have reached this state of relaxation, along comes Mr. or Miss Conscientious Water Filler to replace what I have so painstakingly drained, and I am back to where I started.

I look longingly at my food, but first I must try to decrease some of that water. I do this very, very slowly, letting it hover just above the halfway mark in the hopes that the waitperson will be fooled into thinking it's too soon to refill it. When it dips below that point, I try to hide the glass behind something, like the dessert menu.

But they see right through that trick, and my water glass is quickly filled up again. And I was so close!

Even more agonizing, sometimes the waitperson comes BEFORE the water has reached halfway. No fair! I want to shout. You're not playing by the rules. But of course I have to go on drinking whatever they put in, regardless of how unfair it might be. At the end of this grueling back-and-forth, I will waddle out of the restaurant.

So tonight, I am ready. This time I have deprived myself of my usual water during the day so that I have room to drink everything the waiter can fit in my glass (several times over). Who knows -- this time, I might even ask to have it refilled.