Adventures in Restauranting

Today and yesterday were thrilling to the nth degree. There is nothing more satisfying than restauranting.

Restauranting: (v) taking one hour at a time to sit in front of a food-serving establishment whilst counting the number of males and females who enter and leave said establishment, followed by entering the restaurant and counting advertisements in the restrooms, all done for profit.

We restaurant (used here as a verb) to fundraise for camp in the summer and general church needs. So last night and tonight we each drove around the city to three different restaurants and restauranted for three full hours. Oh, the joys.

My first place today was a dirty pub down by Kits beach, where 50-year-old men were hitting on me and the bartender didn't want to help me unless I bought a drink. I sat across the street in Muffin Break to count, and passed the time counting how many cute guys I could get to smile at me. Eleven. That's six more than the place I did it at yesterday.

The second was a Thai place with no customers, and it was conveniently (or not so much) placed beside Spence Diamonds. I spent the entire time trying to convince myself of why I shouldn't go in.

The third was lame and nothing happened. The end?

Yesterday was no better, and I fear that next week won't be either. It's not that I don't appreciate getting the places that are in the nicer part of town, but times like these make me wish I weren't such a multi-tasker. That way, I could put all my focus into counting (whether it's silly to waste that much time or not) rather than also listening to music, texting, eating, wooing (bahaha), and writing the next great American novel all at the same time...and being dead bored.

Next time I plan on bringing several books, more writing paper and possibly some knitting. Oh, the joys.