9/26, 9:30pm—Austin TX, Burnet Rd.

My friend Cindy and I went to see The Hate U Give this evening. It’s a movie about sad things, told in ways that attempt to capture the reality of those things without mitigating them with false hope, so afterward, it made sense to go to Olive Garden.

Our host was named Becky, and she informed us that seating in the bar area was not an option at the late hour at which we arrived; instead, she told us, that Valerie would be delighted to take care of us. We were sat, and Cindy noticed that her name tag said “Valeria” on it. Neither of us asked her which name was correct, and for the purposes of this recap, both names will be used interchangeably. (Also, if her name is Valeria, and Becky referred to her as “Valerie” anyway, that is a very Becky thing to do.) Valeria asked us what we’d like to drink, and we both told her water. She asked if we would like an appetizer, and we both declined. It was close to closing, and she didn’t hesitate—were we prepared to place our orders? We told her that we were.

Cindy had the fettucine alfredo, declining the neverending portion for the version that appears on the year-round menu. “I’d like for it to end,” she told Valerie. She asked for the salad, and for the salad to be served without tomatoes. I ordered the cavatappi with the garden vegetables, which are a new addition to the Never-Ending Pasta menu for 2018, and marinara sauce. I asked for salad, and told her that I actually would like the tomatoes, and that while Cindy and I had not discussed tomato preferences prior to ordering, she could place them in the salad bowl and I would ensure that they ended up solely on my plate.

She arrived moments later with the salad bowl, and opted to put the tomatoes on the side. It resulted in four tomato slices, rather than the standard two, and I felt the spirit of hospitaliano immediately. Valeria returned before we had even finished the salad to provide our entrees, the timeframe for serving presumably condensed to accommodate her desire to close the restaurant and go home.

The garden vegetables were not my favorite pasta topping; I ate about half of the portion, and then decided to place my refill order, receiving in short order four-cheese marinara with crispy chicken fritta atop cavatappi, which I had been enjoying from the previous serving. I ate this portion in full, Cindy and I discussed the city of Los Angeles, and when Valeria returned to inquire if I’d like yet another portion, I responded in the affirmative, placing an order identical to the previous one. She brought it out almost immediately, and Cindy and I chatted for a few more moments before Valerie intuited that my true intention was to take the third portion home for a later meal, and asked if I wanted a box. I told her that I did, and that I would be paying via Pasta Pass. She took the card and returned with the check for Cindy’s order. I retrieved three more dollar bills from my wallet and left them on the table, and then we departed into the night.