I was rolling into the dining room and met Grace, from the next table, rolling out.
"Not staying for lunch," I asked.
"My husband told me to 'get out'," she said somewhat abashed.
"Why? What did you say?" I asked.
"I just said, 'I'd rather eat dog food than the Salisbury Steak they serve here.'"
Well, you can't fault her good taste, just her bad manners.