The Harvard Cafe

Tonight, Abby, Grace, and I went to the Harvard Cafe. Sacrilegious, I know. But I heard their quesadillas were good, and we wanted to try somewhere new anyway. Please try not to judge me any more than I'm already judging myself. 

The restaurant had a loooovely outdoor seating area with a secret garden-esque ambiance. Grace and I had already begun eating when Abby arrived so she quickly looked over the menu and called a waiter over to order. She asked this man walking by if she could go ahead and order. He responded by telling her that if he saw a waiter, he would let him know that she was ready. 

Yep. Abby tried to order food from this poor guy on his way to the bathroom. The best part was that he actually found a waiter for us and sent him over. She claims that because she got there late, she didn't know what the waiters looked like. I countered by pointing out that this guy was wearing cargo shorts. She came up with a couple more excuses to explain her hilarious mistake but we weren't buying it. 

The guy came over after we were finished eating and asked if we needed anything else. I tried to tell Abby to get his number - I think he liked her. And a funny guy in on the joke sounds like a catch to me.