The Salad Races

We both order club salads and watch the lady behind the counter pull out two metal bowls.
The race is on.
She grabs twice the usual amount of ingredients each time, dividing them between the bowls.
Lettuce, chopped ham, eggs…
It was neck and neck until it was time for the dressing.
“One scoop or two?”
We both said one. Two would slow us down.
She mixes things up, scraping the bowls loudly with the salad tongs.
Bowls are poured into plastic clamshells.
And I get the first.
Victory!
I celebrate with a lap around the restaurant and leave.