As I was sitting at a table in a restaurant, a male waiter (about 20 years old) walked up with what appeared to be a plate of spaghetti. Suddenly some spaghetti began slipping off the plate and some red sauce spilt on me right below my right knee and left a large spot. I thought about becoming angry, but when I looked at the waiter, he seemed very apologetic and said the restaurant would pay for having my pants dry-cleaned. I decided there was no point in becoming angry about the matter.

I noticed two women behind the counter and at first it looked as if they were giggling about it. But then I realized they hadn't even seen the incident.

I rose and walked toward the women. The pants I was wearing were only blue jeans, and I thought it was too bad I wasn't wearing a better pair, so I could have them dry-cleaned.

I asked the waiter for the address of the dry-cleaners.