Perfect

At the restaurant, the waiter asked what I wanted to drink.
I said, “Water with a slice of lemon.” He said, “Perfect.”

My wife ordered a glass of water with ice but without any
mention of lemon. According to the waiter, that, too, was

perfect. Did he know something about me that water with
lemon was perfect for me? Did he know something about my

wife that water with ice but without any mention of lemon
was perfect for her? And so I tried an experiment. When my

water glass was empty, I ordered a different glass of water,
one with ice but without any mention of lemon. According to

the waiter, that, too, was perfect. Might he have mistaken
my wife’s water order for mine? Then my shrimp scampi was

perfect and my cup of coffee was perfect and my wife’s steak
salad with medium-rare steak was perfect. As the waiter hand-

ed us the bill, he asked how everything was to which we re-
sponded simultaneously and quickly, “Perfect,” when, in fact,

not everything was perfect. I just didn’t want to bother him
with the results of my annual physical. It isn’t anything serious —

just not perfect.

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