Pete Carroll Spotted at L.A. Steakhouse

U.S.C. head coach Pete Carroll was spotted at downtown steakhouse L.A. Prime last night while rumors of his possible jump to the NFL shook the football landscape. Here’s a transcript of what went down when Pete tried to order dinner. 

Waiter: Will you be having the usual tonight coach? The consistently excellent filet mignon – the two-time national steak of the year, that would have won a third award had it not been served up next to Austin’s finest barbeque in ‘05?

Carroll: You know, the last time I ordered the filet, it wasn’t totally up to par. There was an Emerald Nut where the rose garnish usually is. I hate Emerald Nuts. And so many people over the years have insisted that I try the rib eye. So let’s do it! Let’s try the rib eye.

Waiter: *mouth agape* But sir, the filet probably hadn’t aged enough upon your last visit. This happens once every several years even at the best steakhouses. I can promise you that we’ve reloaded, and you can be reasonably assured that the filet tonight will be among the best you’ve ever had.

Carroll: I don’t know what to tell you waiter. I’m bored with the filet, and it’s not like I’m going to be able to eat at these steakhouses forever. You see, the thing about the rib eye… Sure it’s harder to cook. Sure I don’t have as much control over the side dishes it comes with. But when it’s done right, it’s the greatest cut in the world.

Waiter: That’s fine, sir. But let me remind you, Mr. Carroll, that the last time you ordered the rib eye, you didn’t like it very much and you weren’t able to finish it. You were frustrated by the idea that everybody around you was also eating the rib eye, only some were eating pieces with more marbling, less gristle. Hell, a patron from Dallas spends double on his rib eyes because he likes to have them grilled up by prima donna chefs.  How do you compete with that, sir? You don’t. You order the filet.

Carroll: Have I told you I hate Texas? *checks BlackBerry* Hold up a sec. I’m getting a text from Morton’s. *Responds via text: “Leave me alone Mort! I haven’t told you what’s on this menu in two years.”* Now look, waiter. You don’t know this, but it looks as though the owner of this fine establishment is about to cut my particular filet in half. Somebody may or may not have bought me a free dinner a while back… And let’s just say that my, um, “purchasing power” might not be what it was going forward.

Waiter: With all due respect, Mr. Carroll, that’s crazy talk. Here we only vacate past meals – meals that, as you know, you have already consumed. Our owner has no power and no balls. Just ask Mr. Calipari.

Carroll: I said I’ll have the rib eye. Bring the rib eye.

Waiter: Mr. Carroll, can I ask why you chose this particular cut now, when you were offered San Diego’s finest beef on at least two or three previous visits? *waiter, convinced increasingly by his own logic that ordering the rib eye is a bad idea, starts to get heated* What the hell, coach? We treat you like a king every time you come in here, on the condition that you order the filet. Now you’re blindsiding us by ordering an inferior steak, and one ice-packed from Seattle, no less.

Carroll: What’s wrong with Seattle?

Waiter: Nothing’s wrong with Seattle, but it sure as hell isn’t known for its steak. In fact, the head of the city’s beef industry just shut down his entire operation to take a job in Ohio. Have you ever seen a cow in Cleveland?! Didn’t think so.

Carroll: I’m set on the rib eye. If it’s not what I expect, I’ll order the filet next time.

Waiter: Fine sir, but by then you’ll have heart disease and the menu will be different. In fact, we will no longer be offering the filet. I can, however, direct you to the Burger King down the road. You can’t miss it – Mr. Petrino and Mr. Erickson are parked outside.

– Robbie

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