Tweet
So, Dad and I went out to dinner last night at what used to be one of Dad's favorite Italian eateries... over time, he has changed his mind about the place.
We get there around 7:30, if I remember correctly. We order, get our drinks, and sit to eat our salads.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, a 'family' consisting of one father figure and ... *counts mentally* nine young kids? walk in. Dad, who can see the door from where he's sitting, goes, "Oh, no..." and I turn around to look at the gaggle of gibbering kids. It was already decently loud in the restaurant.
Anyway, they sit the kids at a round booth, and the dad sits by himself at a table just over my left shoulder, thus necessitating I silence my sarcasm. One of the kids immediately reaches into the red glass thing on his table, pulls out a metal tripod from within, and picks up the glass like he's going to drink whatever was inside. I go, "? What is that?" and look at the table before me, only to realize it's an oil candle. By the time I turn back around, the glass has been set back down, the wick replaced. Okay, no biggie.
Later, they start to get loud, and the Dad turns to them, and claps his hands twice, and they calmed down, briefly. "Hey, look, those kids are on the Clapper!"
Later still, they get loud again, while Dad's away from his table, and someone shushes them. I go, "Thank you, whoever did that." My Dad says, "It was one of the kids." The dad comes back, and mumbles something as he sits down behind me. Into my deafer ear, so I heard only mumbling.
Anyway, Dad and I eat, and our meat tastes kind of citrusy, which isn't normal... but I only eat about half of my lasagna, because the salad filled me up. So I box up my leftovers, and sit and wait while Dad eats his spaghetti.
Suddenly, the people at the table behind Dad start singing "Happy Birthday."
Dad drops his fork, and stands up. "Let's go." "Okay." We head toward the door, dad pats some stranger on the shoulder, because he has a purse slung over his arm. "Nice purse, it matches your eyes..." Dad's a sarcastic bastard too... The stranger and his family are leaving, too, and carrying a partially full box of beer, so, we get close to the door, and the kids suddenly start yelling, out of synch with the song, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" So, we all scoot outside faster, and dad asks if he can borrow a beer, to which guy's wife says, "Hell, I didn't even get one..."
We get in the car, and I tell Dad, "So, had we stayed, and the kids continued to yell, I would've yelled back, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY! SHUT UP!"
Dad replies that he was surprised the Dad hadn't even sat at the same table as the kids. To which I point out the kids filled up that whole booth. Dad says he could've pulled a chair over to the open wedge of the table.
We get there around 7:30, if I remember correctly. We order, get our drinks, and sit to eat our salads.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, a 'family' consisting of one father figure and ... *counts mentally* nine young kids? walk in. Dad, who can see the door from where he's sitting, goes, "Oh, no..." and I turn around to look at the gaggle of gibbering kids. It was already decently loud in the restaurant.
Anyway, they sit the kids at a round booth, and the dad sits by himself at a table just over my left shoulder, thus necessitating I silence my sarcasm. One of the kids immediately reaches into the red glass thing on his table, pulls out a metal tripod from within, and picks up the glass like he's going to drink whatever was inside. I go, "? What is that?" and look at the table before me, only to realize it's an oil candle. By the time I turn back around, the glass has been set back down, the wick replaced. Okay, no biggie.
Later, they start to get loud, and the Dad turns to them, and claps his hands twice, and they calmed down, briefly. "Hey, look, those kids are on the Clapper!"
Later still, they get loud again, while Dad's away from his table, and someone shushes them. I go, "Thank you, whoever did that." My Dad says, "It was one of the kids." The dad comes back, and mumbles something as he sits down behind me. Into my deafer ear, so I heard only mumbling.
Anyway, Dad and I eat, and our meat tastes kind of citrusy, which isn't normal... but I only eat about half of my lasagna, because the salad filled me up. So I box up my leftovers, and sit and wait while Dad eats his spaghetti.
Suddenly, the people at the table behind Dad start singing "Happy Birthday."
Dad drops his fork, and stands up. "Let's go." "Okay." We head toward the door, dad pats some stranger on the shoulder, because he has a purse slung over his arm. "Nice purse, it matches your eyes..." Dad's a sarcastic bastard too... The stranger and his family are leaving, too, and carrying a partially full box of beer, so, we get close to the door, and the kids suddenly start yelling, out of synch with the song, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" So, we all scoot outside faster, and dad asks if he can borrow a beer, to which guy's wife says, "Hell, I didn't even get one..."
We get in the car, and I tell Dad, "So, had we stayed, and the kids continued to yell, I would've yelled back, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY! SHUT UP!"
Dad replies that he was surprised the Dad hadn't even sat at the same table as the kids. To which I point out the kids filled up that whole booth. Dad says he could've pulled a chair over to the open wedge of the table.
Comment