How not to be a slack-jawed idiot
This is my letter to the table of 25, most specifically the 7 big-haired rugby-player teenagers at the loud end of the table, who ruined Foodie's birthday dinner:
Dear Big-Haired Rugby-Player Teenagers at the Loud End of the Table,
I realize that you are from Springville, UT and therefore were never taught proper "going out in public" manners (your claim, not mine), so I'm just going to make you a little list now for future reference.
1. The Brick Oven in Provo may not be an establishment of fine dining, but it is still a restaurant, rather that the pig's trough you mistook it for.
2. Claiming that you are from Springville, UT, and therefore were never taught how to be in public is no excuse. However, if this is seriously going to impede you, they do have things resembling restaurants in Springville. We suggest you use them.
3. Apache war cries from wannabe frat boys are offensive, whether at the table or not.
4. We do not pound on tables with our fists.
5. When the weak-spined pansy manager with the stupid glasses has to come over and ask you to keep it down, that means you are being really, really loud.
6. A real manager (rather than the weak-spined pansy you met last night) would have asked you to leave. Should you decide to try this whole "restaurant thing" a second time, don't be surprised when this happens.
7. When the entire UNLV women's basketball team (who was in town playing BYU that day) asks to be moved to another area of the restaurant, that means you are being really, really loud.
8. When the entire UNLV women's basketball team gets up to leave and you start calling out things like, "Go home, UNLV!" that means you are not only loud and stupid, but that you deserve to be stuffed into a basketball hoop, doused in kerosene, and set on fire.
9. The "Happy Birthday Song" does not need to be sung at the top of your lungs. And it most definitely does not need to be sung twice at the top of your lungs.
10. When a witty and attractive library student is visiting from England and this is her one chance to catch up with these particular friends, and she can't even hear them because you are being so flipping loud, that means you deserve to be slowly dismembered with pizza slicers.
11. When one of the long-suffering girls at Foodie's table finally stands up and tells you exactly how obnoxious you are being and that you have completely ruined her meal, then grabs her purse and leaves the room, you do not call out things like "Yay, she's leaving!" This causes both Kristen and Nemesis to whip around in their seats, snarling, and tell you exactly what they think of behavior like that, because that is both rude and ugly. Then you will look down at your laps like the embarassed teenagers that you are. Only you brought in our yourselves.
Bon Appetit, punks!
I'm Steph, a librarian and mom of 3 (not sure how that happened). Let's chat books, food, Sumptuous Literary Adaptations, poop, knitting and maybe some crazy Mormon Feminism.
13 comments:
I hate Wazzocks like them. Grrr!
You should've bodily thrown them out of the restaurant!
Dang, you should have called the Bobbies. That would have been awesome.
What? All that disruption, people leaving because of him, and the manager only told him to keep it down? Absolutely ridiculous. You should write to their head office.
That's about as bad as when a customer threatened to slap me and my boss let her continue to deride me for 15 minutes. Why didn't I quit? WHY???
ok, I was totally laughing out loud!! That was very well said. I especially like the "doused in kerosen" bit and the "dismembered by pizza slicers".
That book idea of ours really needs to be published. I'm telling you.....it would be a best seller. Although, YOU are the literary genius!
So glad I got to see you last night (even if it was amongst long-haired, sloppily dressed, raised-in-a-barn hooligans).
There's very little that won't be solved by dousing it in kerosene.
Thanks for the post, Nemesis. It should be considered manditory reading for all slack-jawed yokels.
I think you summed it up very well, Nemesis. I agree completely...especially the part about the kerosene and the pizza slicers. It really just got ugly, and I can't believe how rude they were. Anyway...I am so glad that I got a chance to see you and talk to you...even if we had to shout above those blockheads!
Even though it was a loud and obnoxious evening all around (not just with the loud table next to us, but with the unbelievably slow service), I don't feel the evening was a loss. After all, I did get to spend some time with friends whom I probably wouldn't have all at once otherwise.
Thanks for being there, and sharing in the birthday festivities. It wouldn't have been the same without you!
Proving yet once again why Miss Nemesis is my hero. (Just don't tell Master Fob; he thinks it's all about him.)
Tell us how you really feel Nem. I'm tired of you holding back...
John, I'm afraid to even ask what a W****ck is, but thanks for the outrage!
CBH, we were in America. They don't have Bobbies in Provo, unless you're talking about cheerleaders.
Oh April, your boss sounds like a piece of crubbish!!!
Kristen, we should totally write the book about how not to be a slack-jawed idiot. I'm telling you, we could live for years on the royalties!
Tiffany, you are so right.
Jaime, it was worth the Punk-@$$es just to see you--and you too, Foodie! Happy Birthday again!!
Aw . . . EKB, you make me blush. I won't tell Master Fob.
It's true, Stupidramblings, I do tend to bottle my feelings. I'm working on that!
A good garotting wouldn't have gone astray either.
I love your stories. This blog is one of my all-time favs.
Nem, I am not sure what is sadder, this toad’s behavior or the fact that that you are in Provo for a limited time and you decided to eat at the Brick Oven. I know, that is UT blasphemy, but I could never dig the joint. Now what I wouldn't give for bewitched twitch of the nose and eat a Hires for day!
You should have told the manager you wouldn't pay unless the situation was stopped. Also telling him that you would tell all your friends never to eat there again would have probably had a greater effect.
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