That tastes funny..!

Its often funny how a lot of our experiences are directly related to the food we eat/ate.
I had a rather wierd experience in a restaurant recently..

I had fallen ill and had been to the doctor.
Now, thoroughly inspired by the doc, who had asked me to eat a lot of fresh vegetables and fruits,I chose a salad to eat along with a sandwich. (I should have known then, it was the recipe for disaster) .When I ate a little of the salad,I felt there was something wrong with it. ( Well..like they say...its all in the mind..I thought ). I ignored not just the obvious signs of chances of spoilt food but also the salad and continued eating the sandwich. After a point, I tasted the salad again, this time I couldnt close my eyes (or my tastebuds) to the fact that it was indeed spoilt. I could no more accept the bad taste in the salad as its original taste ( which is what I normally do anyway) . Many times, I would've ignored the awful taste and just left it untouched. Today was a day I felt, where I had to do something about this (well may be I saw some movie that inspired me???) ..I called one of the waiters serving and told him very politely that the salad is spoilt. He looked shocked for a minute and then *very* promptly brought the bill.
Well..I thought..What did I expect anyway? An appology? Ha!

I was in the least amused and in no mood to forgive. I waved at another waiter, managed to get his attention and asked him to come over to my table. He came rather reluctantly, before he could say anything I said, Please realise, I am telling you ,the food you just served is SPOILT.
He looked at me as if I accused him of cheating on his wife!! He started stammering as if to his wife (that is ofcourse if he had indeed done the earlier mentioned action)

Suddenly my friend who was with me decided I had taken it a little too far (without much result ofcourse). In a very business-like manner he started.. was this salad made now or sometime earlier in the day? (..."earlier in the Week" I thought , seemed more appropriate to the taste ).
For this the waiter diligently replied..no sir, it was just made.
(ha! What did my friend think anyway? The waiter would tell him that actually, it was never meant to be a salad.
What could be the story??.......
The waiter had made Rajma & chawal at home for breakfast on monday morning, there was a little left over rajma which he dint want to throw away, so he put it away. On Wednesday night, his wife cooked some macroni for the kids, again, she put the leftovers aside. On saturday, he came to work as usual..but unfortuntley for him, the main salad- maker was on leave. But the salads were popular and priced high. He needed to do something, he thought of the rajama n macaroni..Eureka ....he knew how salads were made.. Rushed home mixed the two..added some mayonnaise..viola...Salad was ready to be served!! )

By the time I came back from my fanatasy trip, I had missed a lot of conversation.
Then again I hadnt missed much either, 'cos either party was still stuck at its earlier stance.

Instead of accepting the food was indeed bad, the waiter chose to make it all look innocent, which made it worse. I wish I could just catch him by his throat and make him admit (gosh! I watch too many Hindi movies I believe)
Suddenly, my friend had had enough of it, he said ok, pack it...

I was dazed?? Pack it ?? For what?? Poisoning the boss??
I dint understand the next sequence as if in a typical art movie.
I saw the waiter gleefully dashing away with the bowl of salad (May be his wife forgave him ? I thought stupidly...actually he looked so happy and relieved ..may be his wife offered to divorce him??)
Ok I admit, I was not thinking straight, this whole packing thing had thrown me off the orbit.
On receiving the parcel, I finally asked my friend...So what was that all about??? He grinned sheepishly and replied..Well, I meant, pack that , we'll get it tested. I dint quite hear the "We'll get it tested " though..nor does it seem has our happy (divorced?) waiter.

Well...What can I say? As I silently walked out of the restaurant carrying poison for my friend's boss, all I could think of, was the death of the activist in me!
What a sad death at that...( it could be 'cos I was under-nourished..after all it was MY salad)