A few months ago my husband and I waited an hour at a chain steakhouse for our main order. We had received salad and bread already. At one point I saw the waitress go past and I asked her if our order was on its way. She smiled and said that she would check, and then she deposited extra bread that she had been carrying, and she went on her way, in a direction away from the kitchen, and, I thought, to an area that seemed to lead only outside.

A table a few feet from ours seemed also to be having problems. Several waiters converged on it, and it appeared the family was regiving its order.

We waited. I was in favor of telling a manager, but my husband insisted that we wait.

Finally I was so starving that I was either going to complain to the manager or else I was considering doing something unsociable with the cutlery, or at least with the knife.

I went to the cashier's stand and explained the problem. Manager appeared and explained that it was the first day the waitress had worked there and that she had simply walked off the job. He said they would comp our meal (not that we cared, I simply wanted food ), and that they would get it to us as fast as possible, and a team of waiters retook our order and made sure we got our meal.

They were nice people. I assured them that we would return for other meals.

That night, beginning about 6 or 7 p.m., I was ill with the worst case of abdominal pain I have ever had, accompanied by chills. I thought the restaurant must have served us something it had sitting too long, in order to get us food promptly. Husband said he felt somewhat ill, but I was up throwing up (please forgive me for mentioning that) and he didn't have that problem, nor did he have the severe pain.

By about 3 or 4 a.m., the pain vanished.

I thought I probably had a duty to report the incident of food poisoning to the health department but didn't have the heart to, since the manager had been so apologetic and so nice. Flame if you wish, since I neglected my duty as a watchful citizen.

In December, a month ago, I had several sporadic and similar episodes of pain, enough so that I began to realize that it was not food poisoning. Am scheduled for surgery now, for a medical problem common among the, ah, middle-aged, not serious, but known for being very painful.

But to return to the topic of the thread: Yes, we waited for an hour, would probably still be waiting if husband had prevailed, but because I had access to a steakknife ("I know how to use this, DH, so you'd better let me notify the manager our meal is late!" ), we finally got our meal.

Am so glad I didn't report the restaurant and the nice manager.