This morning I went out for breakfast with my friend Joel. It’s not something we do regularly, I’m usually happy with a piece of toast, but it was nice for a change. To be honest, the place we had chosen was a little out of our league; it cost almost 11 dollars for an orange juice. I wouldn’t say that it was worth it, but the food was absolutely outstanding. About halfway through our meal a family came in and sat at the table next to us. We could hear the cries of the young child before they’d even entered the building; unfortunately the baby was not calmed by the establishment’s tranquil ambience; it just went on screaming. The parents seemed oblivious to the roaring cries; they placed their order as if everything was fine. Joel shot a concerned look in the direction of the perambulator; he knew nothing about children, but this just didn’t seem right. The mother caught Joel’s pained look and shook her head in disgust.
“Fuck you,” Joel snapped. “You bring a screaming child into a packed restaurant and look at me as if I’m the one causing a scene.” The woman opened her eyes wide in surprise. “I know you need to block that shit out in order to maintain sanity, but spare a thought for everyone else. We shouldn’t have to suffer the cries of your spawn. That’s your fucking at work. Do I look like I just got laid?”
After being asked to leave the restaurant Joel insisted on fixing the account. I could feel the looks of hate as we made the short journey to the exit. I think deep down the patrons were happy that someone had made a stance.
“Fuck you,” Joel snapped. “You bring a screaming child into a packed restaurant and look at me as if I’m the one causing a scene.” The woman opened her eyes wide in surprise. “I know you need to block that shit out in order to maintain sanity, but spare a thought for everyone else. We shouldn’t have to suffer the cries of your spawn. That’s your fucking at work. Do I look like I just got laid?”
After being asked to leave the restaurant Joel insisted on fixing the account. I could feel the looks of hate as we made the short journey to the exit. I think deep down the patrons were happy that someone had made a stance.