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Sunday, November 06, 2005Coffee, Muffin, and a Roll of Duct TapeSome people were born with voiceboxes that should have been removed before they learned how to use them. On Saturday morning, my sweetie and I went out for a bit of breakfast together (ah, the joys of having "older" children!). It's one of those little places where you order, pay, and then choose a table and wait for your name to be called. We've been there dozens of times. I should have known something was different when Eric's name was called. The voice was strident -- nasal -- and it sounded more like "Ayyyyyic!" In fact, I had to translate for him, because he completely missed it. "That was you," I said. Needless to say, there were a lot of people there, which meant a lot of name-shouting. And ten minutes into our little meal, we couldn't stand it anymore. This girl -- I don't know where she came from -- had a voice that could shatter windows and curdle unsuspecting eardrums. Seriously. I don't know who told her she could scream for the customers, but it was definitely a moment of poor judgment. If my mother had called me in for dinner the way this girl was calling names, I would have run the other way. My coffee almost left its cup in this girl's general direction. More than once. In fact, our entire breakfast was punctuated with what was almost a physical pain each time she shrieked a new name. I wanted to smack her. Or strangle her. Or at the very least, duct tape her mouth shut. Permanently. I've been to lots of places that call out your name when your order's ready. It's never bothered me before. My favorite New York pizza place is run by a veteran New Yorker named Joey, who barks out the names as if he's voicing his opinion. He's rude; he's brusque; he's New York. I love him! Once, at Joey's Pizza, there was an obnoxious little boy who kept calling his daddy's name over and over again at a decibel level that cut through the entire crowd. The daddy, who was obviously a complete zero, continued to ignore his child, who desperately wanted to show him the bubble gum dispenser. On it went: "Daddy! DADDY! DAAAAAAAADDY!!" Suddenly, in a booming voice, Joey called, "ANSWER YOUR SON!!" I wanted to hug him. (Joey, that is.) There's my rant for the weekend. I'm going to go have a nice, quiet cup of coffee with Eric. And if any of my children start yelling, I will simply reach for the duct tape... |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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9of my readers are feeling chatty:
Years ago our family (Grandma, Mom and Dad, and the chilluns) frequented one of those "belly-up-to-the-trough" buffet places where they guide you in using border collies, and frequent oinks and moos are heard as the herd circles around the sneeze guard for the evenings repast.
Anyway, at one gathering, we had an unusually large group of us requiring half the tables in the facility, plus a few from neighboring buildings, to be butted up together so the squat and gobble fest could commence.
We were trying to carry on a conversation when we experienced a similar jarring noise-fest from some bonehead in the kitchen who apparently thought he was auditioning for an Ethyl Merman role on Broadway. This bozo would clang the bell, and yell over the microphone that the latest entree was done cooking and was available. He was trying to be cool and funny over the loud speaker, but came off as loud and extremely annoying.
My mom, who was normally very even keeled and patient, called over our service person and told them in no uncertain terms that if they didn't shut this guy up, we would be leaving.
Needless to say, Mr. Merman was quieted somewhat, at least our desire to pull out shotguns and bazookas (not to mention the occasional flamethrower) passed, and we were able to enjoy the rest of our slop eating contest.
The funny part about this buffet... it was called "Golden Corral."
Oh... and the "DAAADDDYYYY" kid got shoved into the green jello.
uggggghhhhh, Dave!
You mean Golden Corral, the franchise that features troughs of all you can eat feed?
What a slop eating contest it must have been! ;)
Eric
Teehheeee Sounds like you had Fran Dresser ( sp?) calling out names LOL
Hope you have a quieter cup of coffee this morning!
She was probably Australian ( runs away in case any Aussies are reading)
ROFLMAO! @ Eric! too too funny!
Hope the coffee was good atleast, despite the heinous screaching voice!
Dave -- are you a WRITER or something?? Sheeeeeesh! I don't think you could have written that highly amusing piece any better if you tried!!
Doris -- this was WORSE than Fran! Remember, Fran's got that New York accent -- I like New Yorkers!
Wendy -- Trust me, if she was an Aussie, I would have LOVED to listen to her. I could listen to Steve Irwin all day! (Well, maybe not ALL day....especially if he was going on about snakes...)
Jenn -- The coffee was good, but not WONDERFUL, not being Starbucks and all..... ;)
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Wow, my waitress at PF Chang's the other night must have been moonlighting at your breakfast place! I swear she sounded like Minnie Mouse!
Came here via your husbands blog. Cool blogs from both of you.
Well Jill... I did use "fest" twice in close succession.
:)
Methinks me overuses flamethrower too! LOL
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