Party of 25

I read an article or blog the other day about someone who was complaining that when they went out to eat one night they were seated next to a large party and were pissed off about it because they were too loud. The writer said that there was a table of twenty-five women next to him who were celebrating something. If I know women, it was probably that one of them was engaged, pregnant or getting a divorce. Yeah, a big group like that is going to get loud. They just are. This guy was whining that he couldn’t hear what was happening at his own table and the restaurant didn’t have any place to reseat him so he had to “suffer through it.” Wow. The horror. This poor guy had to eat dinner out at a restaurant and then he had to listen to other people who were doing the same thing. Maybe this douche should realize that if he goes to a restaurant, there is a really good chance that other people will be there too. It’s kinda how it works. If he needs to be able to control the volume of other people it may be a good idea for him to just eat at home. Now I don’t know this guy, but he probably also asked for food that wasn’t on the menu and then asked the waiter to change the music that was playing too. True, the celebrating ladies were probably really loud, but get over it. He could have left when he saw that he was going to be sat next to them. I am sure they weren’t whispering when he first sat at his table and then all of a sudden pumped up the volume in order to irritate him. He said that at the end of the meal, the manager came over and apologized that it was so loud but he didn’t offer them free dessert or anything. I hate this guy. I really do. Why would he think he should get free dessert because other people in the restaurant were having a good time? Can’t we all picture this guy? I bet he was sighing and groaning and rolling his eyes at the ladies the whole time and they were all, “Fuck this guy. Let’s be even louder.”

He should have left or waited for another table. I would never ask another table to be quiet because a table asked me to. It has been asked of me before and I respectfully say “nope.” I tell them that if it’s bothering them then they should be the ones to say something. Besides, like I want to ask my twenty-five top to simmer down and jeopardize my fat ass tip just so the two-top next to them can have a nice quite evening. If you can’t handle being with other people, eat at home. Eat. At. Home.

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