I’d like to thank the disgusting couple who sat a bit off from me in the restaurant last night for the behavior that inspired this entry.
Dining out last night with a friend at a local Chinese buffet. As usual, I had designs on some sushi, the garlic green beans and the glazed mushrooms (oh, and yes, the ice cream that tastes a little like baby aspirin, and is so good with hot tea poured over it). My friend was specifically looking forward to her first lesson with crab legs, and I was prepared to coach. But, when she returned to the table with a plate of food minus the crab legs I was perplexed. I commented that knew there were crab legs on the line, because I had just seen a man walk by with a mountain of them on his plate. No, she replied, there were none.
At that moment I looked behind my friend at the table where the man with the mountain of crab legs was sitting, and noticed that his lady friend also had a mountain of crab legs on her plate. Now, in my book, two mountains of crab legs for those two people equaled no crab legs for anyone else. Which was sad, because I had begun looking forward to having some myself.
As we talked politics, religion, and anything else that we couldn’t normally talk about at our respective jobs, I kept getting distracted by the crab-leg-eating couple behind my friend. I noticed that the floor beneath, and the area around their table was gradually becoming more and more littered the more and more they ate. Bits of crabmeat clung to the edge of the table and their chair legs. Balled up napkins and crab shells were strewn about and out into the isle. When the lady friend raised her head to speak to the waiter, the soft lighting caught and reflected the buttery water running down her chin. And when she stood up to go back for more…crab legs...she had a huge wet stain on the front of her pants (no doubt from the fact that she was not eating upright in her chair and leaning into the table like a normal person, but was eating in a rather slumped position, back in her chair). My appetite was momentarily ruined, and it wasn’t until they left and the sad, sweet waiter was able to scrape up the mess that I was able to resume my eating.
How can anyone be so completely gluttonous and oblivious?
Consider yourself lucky that I did not have a camera…
2 comments:
so-gross but I am holding out hope that deep down there may have been reason for the gluttony. My leading candidate is " training for a competitive eating championship"
Oh, if only you were right. Indeed I hope that you are (although I think you are being too kind to them). I didn't even mention the voice on that broad. She sort of bellowed when she talked...I think I may have to seek counseling for post traumatic stress disorder. I may never eat out again. (I need to get my hyperbole under control, too)
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