And these are just some of the reasons why I don’t eating at “real” restaurants. Y’know what I like to do? Carl’s Jr. + Car = Peaceful meal. Unfortunately, I often hang out with people who, for some strange reason, dislike fast food (go figure, huh?). So my choice in those situations is to A: eat alone, or B: put up with the occasional asshole that comes to the restaurant.
I remember one time, really late at night at Denny’s (the only thing open then), a half-dozen of us decided to drop in for a bite to eat after a rehearsal. We got a nice corner booth, far away from, well, just about anyone else. Anyways, several minutes after we were seated, we heard a guy in another section of the restaurant start to complain. I don’t know what he was complaining about at first (I wasn’t paying attention), but eventually I realized that he was complaining about how long it took to get food… he said stuff like “McDonald’s is far faster than this!” I guess he finally got his food, 'cuz he shut up after a few minutes.
But then he started up again, saying how he didn’t like the cramped booth he was in, and asked to be moved. Yup, instead of just picking up his plate himself, he makes the waitress do it and has her follow him like a loyal little dog. As he plops down on a nearby table, he muttered something like “Fucking idiots… can’t even get decent seating”.
Anyhoo, the evening goes as planned… the six of us are sitting around, playing movie trivia games (mention the name of a movie, the next guy has to come up with one of the actors in the movie, and the next guy has to come up with a movie that actor was in… etc.). We’re not exactly being loud, here. I guess an occasional laugh would erupt.
Eventually, however, our friendly neighborhood asshole starting going “Shh!” and “Quiet!” We toned down a tad, but even light conversation wasn’t enough to satisfy this jerk. He finally called the waitress over and told her to shut us up. She said that she really couldn’t do that, we weren’t being that loud, etc. So Asshole started getting agitated again, saying shit like “Then what good are you?”
Finally, Scott - one of the biggest, scariest, meanest looking fuckers you’ve ever seen (although he’s a really calm, quiet, intelligent guy) - stands up from our booth, turns around, takes a few steps towards him… pauses… and then shouts:
“If you weren’t such a fucking asshole, you wouldn’t be having such a miserable time here!”
Mr. Asshole finished his meal in silence, paid his bill, and left a few minutes later. We got free drinks. 