Chowder

I was waiting tables at a country club when an elegantly dressed woman
spilled Manhattan clam chowder all over her white linen skirt. She
began furiously dabbing at it with a napkin.

Having plenty of experience with getting out feed stains, I asked,
"Can I bring you some club soda?"

"Young lady," she barked, "I'll be the judge of when I've had enough
to drink. Bring me another martini!"

[Reader's Digest.]