Wondering where the spoons are? No problem!

What I want to know is, what is the deal with spoons? That's right, spoons!

I frequent restaurants quite a bit and I finally noticed that when the servers bring you the silverware, which has not one gram of silver in it, nine times out of ten, there are no spoons. Is there a spoon shortage in America? Are we sending all our surplus spoons to the ammunition factory so that we can send more bullets to Iraq? It's easier to find a two-dollar bill in your change from the grocery store than it is to find a spoon in a restaurant.

I notice this only because I order unsweet iced tea with an extra glass of ice. Most of the time, I will find a knife and a fork, sometimes two forks, on the table, but nary a spoon. When I open the packets of artificial sweetener to make the iced tea drinkable, I have to stir it in using a knife or a fork (or the other fork). It's not that spoons don't exist in restaurants because anybody who orders soup or chili will be brought a spoon on the side. A cup of coffee will be set in front of you topped off with a spoon. I guess if you are a non-coffee drinker or a soup and chili hater there's no spoon for you!

I asked a server recently why there were never any spoons. He said, "Do you want one?"

"That's beside the point," I answered, "I just want to know why they are never on the table."

"That's a very good question," he said.

"And the answer is??" I inquired.

"I have no idea," he replied and sped off to other more exciting tasks than to speculate on the Great Spoon Shortage.

A friend of mine saw a two-year-old girl trying to eat Jell-O at a restaurant with a fork. That is just so wrong. Besides, do you know how difficult to flip mashed potatoes at someone with a fork? It's a skill that requires a spoon.

And what is the deal with the pink stuff? In my view, the worst tasting artificial sweetener on the market is the stuff in the pink packet. Better tasting is the stuff in the blue packets, but Splenda, the stuff in the yellow packets, is the best of all. The pink stuff is awful and leaves an aftertaste. The blue stuff is pretty good and, if that is available, I am usually contented.

The other night, I ate in a steak house. "What would you like to drink?" the smiling waitress asked.

"What do you have besides this pink stuff?" I inquired.

"That's all we carry," said she.

"Then, my dear, I shall have water."

Such is my disdain of the pink stuff, I am currently vowing to personally boycott any establishment that only offers the pink packet.

On the other hand, the establishments carrying Splenda have demonstrated that they value the customer highly (since, I am told, the yellow stuff is more expensive), so I will be noting who offers Splenda and eating in those places. Kudos to the restaurants that offer all three (for I am certain that some people somewhere actually like the taste of the pink stuff) and boos and hisses to those who only offer one choice, unless the one choice is Splenda.

And what is the deal with Tab? There must be a total of three people in the state, my wife being one of them, who still drink Tab, that ancient, antique granddaddy of diet colas. The Publix where we shop usually carries only three or four twelve-packs of Tab, that wonderful little cola with the horribly bitter aftertaste. Each week, my wife faithfully buys three or four twelve-packs of Tab. I wonder if the folks at Publix know that my wife is the only customer for the stuff?

When we are on a road trip and stop at a convenience store, my wife will say, "Bring me a Tab." I have never in my life, since a zillion years ago, found a Tab in a convenience store. It would be easier to buy caviar at the 7-11 than to buy a Tab.

And while I am on a rant, what, pray tell, is the deal with "no problem?"

"May I have a spoon?" I ask.

"No problem," says the server.

When the spoon is finally located in Des Moines and brought to my table, I say, "Thank you."

"No problem," says the spoon provider.

Whatever happened to "Yes, you may," and "You're welcome?"

The problem with "no problem" is that the response sounds as though there really is a problem but that the person doesn't want you to think there really is a problem. The other day I said "Thank you" to a worker at Chick-fil-A and she said, "You're welcome." Then when I asked for the blue stuff (no Splenda here yet), she said, "My pleasure!" Not even one "no problem!" For a moment, be it ever so brief, I enjoyed the brush with civilized behavior.

But complaining does little good. My wife carries extra Tab in her car on trips and I have a box of Splenda and a plastic spoon in mine. A few days ago someone asked if they could use my Splenda for their coffee.

"Of course," I said. "No problem!"