Skip to main content

Restaurant etiquette....

You know those scenes in movies where someone, usually a dude, says something inappropriate and the strong women that he offended so carelessly throws a drink in his face? And the man always takes it sheepishly, showing with a look that he knows he fucked up and shouldn't have crossed whatever line he
did to get that drink thrown at him. Then he gently dabs his face with a napkin while the woman storms out and hails a cab, not looking back to see if he chases after her, which of course he does. Then, later in the story after we see a montage of them both moving on, her more successfully than him, there is a scene where the guy calls and leave a message on her answering machine, or writes her a letter from Spain where he went to gather his thoughts and he apologizes for whatever he did and begs to see her just one more time.

We've all fantasized about something like that, right? Showing that guy that his garish behavior deserved nothing less, and he got off easy if you ask me! Or...did he? Because I did something like that twice (yeah, twice. I know, I know...) in my life and let's just say the movie version was way less sweaty and humiliating and I'm willing to wager that the heroine didn't puke when she got home.


The first time was when I was about 21 and after a night of karaoke and Kamikaze shots (blarf!) my friends and I settled into a booth at our favorite 24 hour diner, The Cardinal. This place was our JAM! We were there several nights a week and always had a great time. All the waiters new us and we could make a ruckus an they all thought it was fun! (Actually now that I'm older and think about it I bet they thought we sucked, because I think 21 year olds suck doing anything, let alone being drunk douche bags at 2:00 in the morning. Anyway, I digress.)

This night in particular The Cardinal was packed to the rafters with drunk assholes sloppily choking down greasy burgers and fried zucchini. I was with a bunch of my girlfriends who started chatting with the booth next to us of dudes. The details are fuzzy (duh) but at some point one of the dudes said something shitty, or maybe I said something shitty, or something shitty happened and I decided I was going to teach that dude a lesson he wouldn't forget. Until the next day of course because I bet he was in a blackout. What I do recall is the guy saying something about a whore and then mentioning his girlfriend. I stood in front of his table and made some remark about his "girlfriend selling her ass on the corner" (my current inner feminist is shuddering right now) and picked up a glass of water and threw it in his face. His friends said "oooohhhhhhh!" and my friends gasped and I later repeated the story and my "joke" proudly over and over until everyone had heard it and stopped reacting.

The other time was when I was at a bar and some drunk dick bag was heckling my husband during his stand up set(yup, I said husband, which meant I was in my early 30's at this point). The guy was so annoying and loud and stupid and I was seething with rage! When the show ended I had about three vodka sodas and decided that I was going to word this dude up, so I stood by his table just hoping he would notice me. Then he did. He said,"hhlllaaeelllaooaooo hahah", because he was that sloppy and shit housed. I smiled and walked over and something to the effect of, "You ruined the show because you never stopped talking!" He was with a girl who had a look of "not again" on her face, and she quickly looked down and started staring at her phone. He shot back, "Hammenaderasd and you're a fucking bitch!" So I picked up the sugar caddy and threw it at him. Sugar packets went flying all over the floor and onto this guy and his friend who was still looking at her phone, trying to tune it all out.

Well, I unfortunately didn't get heart felt apology notes from Europe three weeks later from either of these gentlemen thanking me for my bravery and grace while I threw these items in their faces. Nope! In both cases in fact both the dudes threw something back at me (which is fair, really) and started screaming about what a bitch I was until they were thrown out. Also no one applauded my bold move shutting these dudes down. Though maybe they was a little impressed by the size of my balls for a second or two, for the most part they were embarrassed. Especially my husband, who first off didn't need me defending him against the heckler, he didn't care and is a pro and whatever, and because his wife behaved poorly. I also didn't feel vindicated AT ALL! In fact I was ashamed and thought about what I would say in the letter or on the answering machine to apologize.


These stories popped back into my mind today as I took my daughter to a diner to meet a friend. I put her in her chair and she instantly started yelling, crying and throwing things in my face, like sugar packets from the caddy and ice from my water class before throwing it all on the ground.

Then it hit me. Apple, meet tree.

I. Am. Fucked.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Into Emotional Cutting? Cool, Read The Giving Tree!

If there is one thing I know about myself it is that I simply can't eat an ice cream sandwich with any sort of dignity. If there is a second thing I'm sure of, its that I am not emotionally healthy enough to handle the children's book The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. That book sends me into a sobbing fit so powerful I need my inhaler to pull me out safely. Every time I open the book I am cutting myself emotionally, and this post is a cry for help. If you're not familiar with this classic let me give you the cliff notes. It's about a boy and a tree. When the boy is young he loves the tree and hangs with it all the time, and the tree is so happy. They play and he climbs and he eats her apples and sleeps in her shade. The tree even allows the boy to carve their initials into her side that's surrounded by a heart. She loved this boy so much she allowed him to brand her permanently. Things were pretty awesome for a long time, until the boy got a...

Scared Sh*tless For Your Kids Safety? Try These Alternative Solutions!

If you're a parent I bet your days are filled to the brim with utter fear and anxiety that at any minute the world will end. It's scary enough having kids and worrying they're going to hurt themselves just by falling off their roller shoes, let alone the possibility of them walking into a Chuck E Cheese on a random Tuesday and having to duck and cover because one of the animatronics with a history of violence has beef with the day manager. (How did he get hired in the first place?!) So what are we, as parents of the future generation, supposed to do to deal with all this insanity? While there are the logical and thoughtful solutions suggested time after time like, uh, how about we don't give that dude who with a Google history exclusively on "How To Burn A Cat Alive Without Making A Mess" that AR-15, ideas like that  are clearly insane and threaten the very core of all American values of being able to own ALL THE GUNS.    It seems like the only thing we can...

Holy Crap, I Have Two Kids Now!

Bo holding her little brother, Charlie, for the first time. Clearly she thinks he should be able to handle his own neck by now.   On March 26th at 4:06pm Charlie Wilder Cobb was born. He decided that his accommodations in my uterus had grown stale and that he would make an appearance three weeks early. Cheeky little fella. Since he was early no one was here to help out yet, which is why at 2:00 am that Monday morning when my water broke we made the decision that I would drive myself to the hospital. Bo was still asleep and going through the experience of waking her up out of a dead sleep would be way more painful than any labor pains I could have. It honestly seemed easier to just get myself to Cedars Sinai and figure it out later. The moment after my water broke and our new Ikea duvet cover is destroyed. While I'd like to be viewed as a total bad ass driving myself during the beginning stages of labor, the truth is it wasn't that big of a deal. See, in mo...