So I treated myself yesterday, I went out to eat at a local establishment, I don’t believe in unsolicited product or brand endorsements unless I’m being compensated for said endorsement…So let’s just say I ate at “Bhilli’s”.
I don’t get out to eat much since I try to eat a special diet, high in protein, low on flavor and enjoyment, but once in a while you have to treat yourself, right? Anyways as I was waiting for my food, a family came in and sat in the table next to me, they seemed decent enough, fairly well dressed, a Mom and Dad and three kids, they seemed to be the typical “All-American” family, they ordered and shortly after my food came, I noticed their kids eyeballing me as I ate which made me feel like I was eating like a caveman or something…I really wanted to throw a French fry at them but I restrained myself.
Then their food came…And before my eyes a transformation took place, this seemingly “All-American” family turned into a Barbarian Horde descending upon an enemy village, and that unsuspecting village was their meal. They began yelling at each other, the Parents or Barbarian Elders were trying to keep order but the Savages could not be tamed, there was Burping, Slurping and Pretty sure Farting coming from that table, food falling to the ground, silverware and napkins must have been new to them because the young Barbarian Savages didn’t seem to know how to use them.
I sat there in utter Horror watching as they used their grubby little hands to stuff food in their mouths and then leave them hanging open while they slopped the contents around for all the patrons to see. It was like watching the rinse cycle of a washing machine.
It I felt nauseated, I feel I could have thrown up on the floor next to them and nobody would have noticed because the entire restaurant was fixated on this family of Barbarians….I’ve been to Zoos where the Lions ate more civilized then these Savages.
I remember when I was young, if we went out to eat it was a treat and I had to sit quietly with my eyes fixed on the floor, napkin spread across my lap and elbows tucked to the sides. If I ever dared reach my arm across the table my Mom would have cut it off and thrown it at the nearest server. Etiquette and Manners were required and demanded.
Seeing those Barbarians tear that table apart and rip at their food like wild hyenas was just another reminder of how times have changed. I can envision one day going to a restaurant and seeing everyone gorging themselves from a communal trough and then rolling around in the filth afterwards.
So I guess what I am trying to say is if you have kids, and you haven’t taught them table manners please just feed them Hot pockets at home.