After a long day at work, Citizen Wifey wanted to eat out. She did the “Wife Thing” and asked me where I wanted to eat (I hate when she does that). I said Taco Bell, but it was obvious that Taco Bell wasn’t even an option. Ironically she was carrying TGIF, or as it is called in layman’s terms: Friday’s, coupons in her purse. The whole time I’m thinking “why didn’t she have Taco Bell coupons”? I just wanted some Chulupas, maybe a cinnamon twist and head on to the house. I come from a family where eating out was a rare occasion. A night at McDonalds was the equivalent to eating at Victoria & Albert’s. My wife says she is into enjoying the dining experience. The Dining Experience? You go to Ruth’s Chris for a dining experience. You go to Friday’s for chicken wings and mini burgers. After a slow and painful shopping experience at TJ Maxx, (I think my wife bought a pair of mens pants), we headed to Friday’s. The hostess ended up seating us next to a rowdy group of women. They must have been co-workers or a ladies football team out on the town. They weren’t just loud but extremely loud. I couldn’t hear myself talk nor my wife. I don’t think she heard me when I was praying over the food. I just hope that God reads lips. My wife tried to do the “Sassy Black Woman” thing and started talking over the group. My wife isn’t a street fighter. She took ballet and went to a Magnet School. She was outgunned all the way around. There was some heavy hitters in that group (I’m talking 250 pounds plus). Like Kenny Rogers use to say “You gotta know when to hold em and know when to fold em no when to walk away, no when to run”.
My wife kept asking me if I wanted to move but I kept thinking… move where? You could hear the ruckus as soon as you hit the joint. I finally agreed to move because I didn’t want a drunk woman fighting my wife. I was happy that the women in question weren’t the usual suspects. You know…. the stereotypical loud black woman (don’t frown ….you know I’m right). It was a multicultural group, a loud coalition of the willing, so I was pleased by that. Don’t get me wrong because black folks were doing most of the talking, but it was a mixed group. In our new seats we were closer to the front, but it was still loud. The waitress could tell that we were annoyed so she felt sympathy for us. I believe my ear drums were busted so I could not hear what she was saying to my wife. I still can’t believe my wife didn’t like the appetizers. Who doesn’t like pulled pork wrapped up like an egg roll with bbq sauce for dipping? The evening hit an all time low when other patrons started becoming annoyed and wanted to be seated elsewhere. I haven’t seen white folks move that fast since the movie Titanic. They were grabbing glasses, plates, forks, spoons and any other silverware that wasn’t tied down. I guess subconsciously I didn’t like the way the whole scene played out. It looked like minorities were once again disturbing the tranquility of white folks. I wonder what my fellow patrons were thinking when they moved. Was it…boy that group was loud or….boy those black folks were loud. Maybe it comes from my Black Man Paranoia (sorry there is no cure for it).
Well my wife decided to let the waitress hear about our displeasure. I hate when she complains because at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. The waitress said they kept telling them to use their inside voices. When did they do that? Was it after the first drink they served or the fifth? To say my wife is particular about customer service is an understatement. We haven’t been back to one particular soul food restaurant because they ran out of the delicious cornbread the day the restaurant was featured in a major weekly publication. I always drive by the place and wonder what the cornbread tastes like. I’m not the kind of guy that will let cornbread ruin my marriage so I keep on driving. I can only hope that our next experience dining out will be better. If not, Taco Bell has a drive thru.
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