Saturday, December 16, 2006
Dining Out
My sister and I went out to dinner last night. Since we tend to eat like seventy-year-olds from Celebration, Florida, we decided it was okay to have dinner at 5 PM, meaning that when we walked in to the restaurant, literally the entire staff was sitting in the front room having some kind of meeting. They interrupted it to seat us, but we were then the only people in the dining room. Luckily from a dinner theater perspective, two other groups quickly joined us.
First there were two middle-aged men at the table next to us, who carried on a fascinating drunken argument about 1) whether one of them was the manager of the restaurant, 2) their apparent joint foray into the world of novelty t-shirt marketing, and 3) whose girlfriend may or may not have been fat. They spoke, of course, with a volume and tone that indicated that the entire restaurant could benefit from participating in this McLaughlin Group of inanities.
Unfortunately, this led a couple several tables away from us to take issue with the noise level. And the following dialogue ensued:
Lady: Maybe you could just keep it down?
Self-Appointed Manager: Maybe you should just mind your own business.
Lady: Maybe I should just throw this chip right out the window.
Self-Appointed Manager: Maybe I should dump these enchiladas right on your head.
Unfortunately, no actual physical conflict followed. I suppose we can always hope for one on a subsequent visit.
My sister and I went out to dinner last night. Since we tend to eat like seventy-year-olds from Celebration, Florida, we decided it was okay to have dinner at 5 PM, meaning that when we walked in to the restaurant, literally the entire staff was sitting in the front room having some kind of meeting. They interrupted it to seat us, but we were then the only people in the dining room. Luckily from a dinner theater perspective, two other groups quickly joined us.
First there were two middle-aged men at the table next to us, who carried on a fascinating drunken argument about 1) whether one of them was the manager of the restaurant, 2) their apparent joint foray into the world of novelty t-shirt marketing, and 3) whose girlfriend may or may not have been fat. They spoke, of course, with a volume and tone that indicated that the entire restaurant could benefit from participating in this McLaughlin Group of inanities.
Unfortunately, this led a couple several tables away from us to take issue with the noise level. And the following dialogue ensued:
Lady: Maybe you could just keep it down?
Self-Appointed Manager: Maybe you should just mind your own business.
Lady: Maybe I should just throw this chip right out the window.
Self-Appointed Manager: Maybe I should dump these enchiladas right on your head.
Unfortunately, no actual physical conflict followed. I suppose we can always hope for one on a subsequent visit.
