I feel like I've told this story before

I used to send my chips back in Rwanda. Fries, to US Americans. 

I was totally That Girl. (I hate That Girl.)

Rwanda has some of the best chips/fries in the world, when they are made correctly. Not for nothing were they colonized by Belgium, Homeland of Chips. (I don't know that I've ever been to Belgium, other than the Brussels Airport. But the chips thing is well rumored.)

The problem with chips is that they must be fried twice. They simply must. And sometimes people skimp on the frying and do it only once, and disaster ensues. Once-cooked chips are soggy and mushy and taste like stale potato. 

And so three or so times a week when I lived in Rwanda I ate at the Kibuye Guesthouse, and three or so times a week I ordered chips and grated carrots (you never knew what you were going to get if you ordered a straight salad), and three or so times a week I sent my chips back to be well-cooked, and three or so times a week the chips came back a few minutes later steaming and crisp.

I was totally That Girl, but it was totally worth it for those delicious bits of fried potato eaten with American Greenland Ketchup (made in the UAE. I note that tomatoes do not grow in the desert. I have no idea how this ketchup gets made, but it has a hint of spice and it is amazing).

Tonight I had to turn into That Girl again. 

We were sitting on a deck in the sunlight at a crappy campus bar, and I ordered mac and cheese because I needed comfort food.

Two hairs into our beverages and appetizers (one hair in the straw of a water cup, one hair in the hush puppies), my mac and cheese arrived, freezing cold in the middle.

I sent it back and they microwaved it (literally - she said, as she brought it back, "We put it in for two minutes"). 

Then it was luke-warm in the middle, and I sent it back again.

It came back hot and mushy, like all bad campus bar food, but I piled on the black pepper and it was tolerable. 

And possibly contained spittle, after the annoyance I caused the kitchen.