‘Mincing’ Whilst Rome Burns….
KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN
La la la la laa la la
I was humming to myself as I sashayed and swished round my section on Sunday afternoon. Both my sashaying and indeed swishing has become easier of late what with having lost a full fatty stone in weight in the last six maybe seven weeks. C'mon! Take that doubters, you know who you are. One day I'll be half the man I used to be.
Anyhoo I was, as the boss put it, 'mincing whilst Rome burns'. There was chaos on the other side of the restaurant and I had decided that I wasn't involving myself in it. Oh bloody hell there was no chuffing way was I getting involved in that whole ghastly nightmare.
It was a 40th birthday party, a 40th birthday at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon to be precise. Crikey. There were kids, many, many kids. And with the kids there was parents, hung to the over parents. We knew this didn't bode well. And so it came to pass. Cutlery was knocked to the floor, glasses too and then inevitably littler children as well. It wasn't my section so I abdicated responsibility and well, well I ran away to a happier place. The youngest person in my section for most of the afternoon would have been at most 35. Nice. Thirty-five year old's don't tend to run around the restaurant like they were being chased by Gary Glitter or a member of the clergy with their shirts lifted over their heads whilst picking their noses. That said I know some who definitely do.
But having dodged the serving and subsequent clearing of the first course through some rather nifty timing and disappearing The Glorious leader made sure I would be available for the swift delivery of the main courses. Meh. I lifted three plates of children sized portions of roast beef and made my way into their section. The sight that greeted me was as abhorrent and as grizzly as watching open cock surgery, your own open cock surgery at that.
The room was strewn with balloons and associated party crap. There was more cutlery on the floor than on the table and in the middle stood a bedraggled and quite stressed Waiter Chum the Younger. She was fending off questions from little people about her hair and her makeup and about how many boyfriends she had and what was her favourite colour and if she was old enough to drink....they were relentless little buggers. I made an attempt to serve some food in my own inimitable style, that is to say like a butler from the 1800's but when the pleasantries failed I just resorted to shouting out types of farmyard animals.
"Chicken?"
"Beef?"
"Pork? eh, who wants the piggy?'
And so on. Classy eh what?!
Obviously by the time we had the parents, I say parents but that would indicate some level of responsibility/ownership and that was waaaaay of the mark, sorted out the little darlings were finished and ready for round 53 of running round the restaurant screaming in various states of undress. Christ on a bike by the time we had finished serving the mains I was ready to join them.
So four and a half hours after they had arrived we finally got shot of them through the telling of lies and a little trick I like to call, down right rudeness. Thank the Gordon for service charges. In nearly 270 minutes they had reduced an entire section, and one waiter chum, to shadows of their former selves. A whole other section had to be stripped, cleaned and reset with fresh cutlery and glasses, the glasses having been found to have had salt and pepper tipped into them. And numerous tables had to be apologised to as little darlings had disturbed them with their shouting and hollering and occasional falling onto them.
My, it wasn't pretty.
See when I was a lad....and so on. But seriously when we went out for lunch with family etc we didn't even consider lifting our bums off the seat even once. We didn't sit in fear but at the same time we knew what the consequences were if we had done. We said please and god damn thank you and we ate what the hell we were given, which was usually one plate split between us. Now the little buggers get to choose what they want and they get to eat as much or not as they want to too. Bring back hunger and and they'd soon changed their tunes. Nothing like sausages made from horse entrails and chicken innards to help you appreciate the finer points of a restaurant made chicken finger.
Pfft...
If anybody needs me I'll be resting in a darkened room thinking about the good ol days when it was acceptable for strangers to clip unruly children round the ear for simply speaking.
Good times...
I blame Walkmans for the decline of society!
and skittles mixed with red bull…
Ever thought of a Ritalin based starter on the kids menu?
what a tremendous idea…
its little christers like that running about which has made me hesitant in dining out. little bastards. move your bum off a seat while out?? hell i seem to remember having to raise my hand and whisper to my mum if i had to go pa’diddle, and get a smack for mentioning a body function at the table!
we only really get em on a Sunday….thank the lord
to this day, each and every member of the coconut krewe thanks us for the lessons they learned at table! there is still hope, sugar! their children and your children (if any of all y’all are so inclined) will have proper manners and a sense of decorum! xoxoxoxoxo
good people..!
Thats what happens when kids only experience of dining out is McDonalds or bloody burger king. If you take em to proper eatery’s when there young they soon learn to behave themselves
gotta start with the parents…kids will do what kids do….
Months ago a cherubic blonde girl of about 12 who looked as though she never knew a moment of worry tore in front of me across the path with her bike and screeched ‘move!’
The urge to reach out and push her from the bike was shocking.
Then there was the teen boy who smashed my shoulder rather than move over to share the sidewalk the other week.
The ‘not in my day’ reaction must be unavoidable.
It’s a downward spiral…christ I sound like the daily mail now…
Were we all not children once? was it so long ago we can’t remember having fun? do we even know what fun is any more? has it come to this ? so, a few plates and glasses got knocked over & a few Waiters got upset, is that so terrible ? well is it ?
Am I being patronising ? do you really really want to throttle me right now ????
So many questions, so few answers.
Don’t forget ! those little darlings will be waiters themselves someday ( A scary thought in its self ) and then it will be payback time !!!
And their revenge will be the laughter of the cooking staff & other riff raff !
fun can be organised and silent…yes it can!!!
taser.
totally…
Condom.
too late but yes…
I blame the tories.
and John Terry…
thses things never happened under a Labour administration…
My Dear Chap,I suppose these bally troglodytes,were operating under the old mantra; Good manners are a combination of intelligence,education,taste,and style mixed together in such a way, so that you don’t need any of these things.
It sounds enough of a dashed orgy for even those ancient Roman reprobates to draw in their breath with a startled what-ho!
it was! a sticky fingered orgy and no mistake…!
I was taught proper restaurant etiquette as a kid. Also known as “Sit down, shut up and eat your sprouts”.
weren’t we all?! well said sparky…