I went out to dinner the other night. I know that’s not really exciting information. But, I did…just my wife and I. We picked a nice, quiet, little sushi place. I was really more in an American seafood meal mood, but the seafood restaurant nearby has live music and rowdy guests and I didn’t want a lot of commotion.
We go in and much to my delight, there’s only one other couple, an older couple, dining in the restaurant. It may not have been to the delight of the restaurant owner, but it delighted me.
This other couple was rather nondescript, bland, if you will, and I would, if I were you. Even better, I thought. What didn’t register was that this bland couple was sitting at a table for about ten to twelve persons. You know what? There was a reason for that.
They were expecting company. Right after my wife and I ordered, about a dozen of the noisiest, most obnoxious people storm in. Apparently one woman in the noisy group knew the couple. But, nobody else knew each other. So, the next thing you know everyone is introducing everyone else. They’re all milling around, actually breathing right over my miso soup. I don’t like people breathing over my food. I don’t even breathe over my food.
At the onset of this attack, I didn’t realize that my wife and I were in the presence of greatness. In fact, it probably took about five minutes before I became fully aware of just who was in this party sitting right next to us.
I don’t know the guy’s name, but undoubtedly, he has to be the crown prince of obnoxious. This guy, about 45 or so started loudly telling everyone, including my wife and me indirectly, about his many wonderful trips and excursions. He flew here, he flew there. He bought boats. He has houses all over, and, I’m sure he also has the world’s largest hemorrhoids. He didn’t mention that last part, but I’m pretty sure I’m right about that.
Now, I could have started loudly telling my wife about my fabulous trip to China last fall. But, did I? Nope. I’m too refined, too humble, too classy. This guy wasn’t refined, humble or classy. He was a bore with a capital “B.”
What do you want to bet he’s not married?” I ask my wife. No sooner had I said it, than the guy made some derogatory comment about his ex-wife. “I knew it!” I shouted. I must have shouted a little loudly, for just for a moment, the guy got quiet and everyone looked over at my table. The guy just glared. I had interrupted a tale of a voyage to Tobago or someplace that sounds like that.
I swear, if droning on endlessly about oneself is a crime, the SWAT team would have surrounded this restaurant and started hurling tear gas. I finally got so tired of it, I started, rather loudly, telling my wife about all the acclaim and honor I’m getting from these blogs. And, yes, I loudly proclaimed, it’s paying a pretty good penny.
I don’t think my wife was overly impressed. Sometimes talking about how great you are to someone who knows how great you ain’t isn’t all that impressive. But, I’m sure at least some of the revelers at the other table were becoming aware of my many accolades.
Finally, I gave the waitress my credit card and my wife and I prepared to leave. There was only one more thing that would make this night complete. Within minutes the waitress returned, and in a voice loud enough for all in the restaurant to hear, proclaimed that my card had been declined.
Have you ever slithered out of a restaurant on your belly? It ain’t easy.
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2 comments:
That was a great read! I think we've all been in such circumstances before. So how is your belly doing??
You know, not enough people ask about my belly. So, needless to say, I am beside myself with appreciation. My belly is doing rather well. It keeps screaming to be fed, but that's only natural
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