fried rice is extra

I debated between calling this post "fried rice is extra" or "diet coke & edamame," because I'm not sure which captures the essence of my dining experience last night. Ian and I went to Cafe one 11. It's a sushi/fusion place. Generally I like it. Their sushi is good and that is usually what I order. But, I got a special last night, the Vietnamese steak. Ian got the general's chicken. The waitress brought out steamed rice. He asked for fried rice. She said it was extra. My main pet peeve about dining establishments is when they nickle and dime you to death. For example, a BBQ joint in Erwin charges extra for take out; they pass the cost of the Styrofoam container on to the customer. They also charge for refills. It's a rotten way to to business as far as I'm concerned and I don't think there's any room for ungracious restaurant owners and managers in my world. Why is fried rice extra? Maybe I expect the cheap BBQ joint to pass the cost of things along to the customer. It seems more like  a strategy they would employee, but I cannot accept that from a place that charges $16.95 for a dinner special (my Vietnamese steak thing).

Then, the diet coke & edamame encapsulates most dining experiences in the Tri-Cities. The male half of the couple seated next to us ordered diet coke and edamame. How freaky is that?  It's typical of Tri-Cities because the young yearn to be cosmopolitan or trendy, yet they can't quite pull it off. I suspect that it was because he was under aged that he ordered the diet coke. And then the female half argued with her companion about her spicy tuna roll being one piece (I didn't correct her, isn't that impolite, when a stranger in a restaurant leans over to correct your misperceptions?). I don't know whether she didn't want him to share it, or if she wanted...I have absolutely no clue. Curiously, they asked to sit at the bar after resting at that table for all of five minutes. Ian and I think it is because there was an ambiguously-sexed person a few tables over from them.  We had both showered that day and applied, in Ian's case, a delightful Givenchy colonge, and in mine, Dirt, and so we knew that we were aromatically unoffensive. I noticed that the boy's leg was thumping up and down like he was anxious about something, or didn't want to be there, or perhaps he was on speed. But he was of the generation of young boys who think that flip flops without pedicures are appropriate for public display, or that flip flops are appropriate foot-ware for dining out. And, I suspect that an ambiguously-sexed person would make such a young lad lacking shoe etiquette uncomfortable.