I even whispered across the table, “Is this all we get?” to which John and Mom both shot me looks that said I should shut up and eat my soup.
At first I was caught off guard when I tasted the soup. It wasn’t even remotely warm. Actually I’d go as far as to say it was cold and any other time or place I would have said something about the cold soup, but this one time I kept my mouth shut. Well, for the time being.
I only tried a few spoonfuls of the soup. It tasted like shrimp that had sat around for a few days; that and bad cheese.
When the waiter came to take our bowls he saw that I hadn’t eaten my soup. He politely asked me, “Did you not enjoy your soup.”