SCENE: Interior, Old Chicago.
PRESENT: back2me, kazac, control_group, assfingers, some shitbitch waitress that won't shut up
Everyone orders, with much annoying chatter and banter between patrons and waitress. Eventually it is my turn to order, and this is what happens:
assfingers: I'll have the personal pizza, with pepperoni, ground beef, and bacon.
S.B. Waitress: Do you want bacon or canadian bacon?
EVERYONE: *sudden silence* *shocked glances at each other*
assfingers: *attempts not to ask waitress if she thinks I'm an asshole*
EVERYONE: *PANICKED LOOKS*
assfingers, something like 30 full seconds later: Umm, the real bacon.
Waitress, very confused: *very confused*
kazac, calmly: You don't want to know. Canadian bacon is ham, though.
Waitress, cheerfully: We have ham, too!