Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Chase, I hardly knew ye, yet I despise thee ...

I did an interview that ran later than expected today, so by the time I left the office for lunch, we were well past my normal 12:30 p.m. feeding time.

In other words, we were entering dangerous Nikki territory.

Needless to say, once we were seated at a local chain by a delightfully friendly hostess, I was about ready to eat the menu - I was that hungry. We placed our orders the second our server came to offer drinks.

This is right around the time we were most ignorantly introduced to a bastard child I would like to call, oh, let me just pull the name out of my arse, Chase. Chase was a kid who had a jerk for a mother, a mother who let her rotten spawn run rampant throughout the restaurant, disturbing everyone in his wake.

As if it wasn't bad enough that the kid was being an asshole as he ran around screaming at the top of his high-pitched lungs, his mother would shout at him from their booth - which, as fate would so punish us, was right behind us.

"Chase, sit down!"
"Shh, Chase."
"Chase, get over here."
"Chase, do you want ice cream?"

While I was saying in my head: "Chase, would you like a sock in your mouth or a punch in the face?" It was ridiculous.

I grew up in a restaurant family whose parents had always said that, in addition to the smoking/non-smoking sections, there should be a no children section, to which I wholeheartedly agree.

I know kids are the most important thing in a parent's life, as they very well should be, without question. However, there is a time and a place for them to be seen and heard, and when they are screaming and running around like jerks in public is so not one of them.

No, I do not have children of my own yet, but I can damn well guarantee that my child will not act like that. I never did, and I wasn't raised to get away with acting like that in public. If he was having a behavioral problem that day, I understand. That's when you quietly ask for the check and get the kid out of there. No one deserves to have their meal ruined by a kid whose mother can't control him.

I had to do everything in my power to not go off on Chase's mother. Apparently, the hostess made a remark about the kid running around - which, even as a non-mom, I know is not safe in a restaurant with servers and hot food nearby - and his mother heard.

She found the manager and told him as they were finally leaving that she was not happy about it because, and I quote, "I am a good tipper and it's not like we were causing a scene." Uh really? Then why did everyone in the room look around at each other and let out a sigh of relief at the quiet front that descended upon us with your departure?

Our server apologized profusely for Chase's disturbance, not that she was in any way to blame. Hell, Chase isn't even to blame. I blame his classless ass of a mother. I can only image what she came from.

Thanks the heartburn, jerk!

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