Saturday, April 30, 2005

Raised by Wolves or Something

Dining at my neighborhood Elmer's Pancake and Steak House yesterday, I was treated to something no one should ever have to witness while eating in public.

A couple finishing their meal a few tables away from me chatted loudly. OK, she was the loud one, punctuating many of her insipid remarks with a laugh that could spew rounds of military grade amunition. That's my very long way of saying she sounded like a machine gun. She laughed about things like the new cell phone commercial with Chubaca recording a ring tone. She laughed about some stupid girl at school. "Anh anh anh anh anh!" She laughed about Tori Amos and some other such crap.

On and on she brayed, with her male companion. I'm guessing that they were in drama or chorus at their school, because they talked about music, and sang songs, and I think some old movies came up. And when she burst in a short tirade about abusive men, and her friend agreed, I knew he was gay. I've had that conversation with straight men, and they don't concede badness so easily, but act like there's a another male gender that they haven't heard about.

Anyway. As annoying as their, I mean, her utterances were, they were amusing. I made a game of trying to figure out whether they were drama or chorus, whether or not she knew he was gay, whether or not he knew he was gay, and then... snip...snip snip...snip.

No. Nonononono--I did not just hear that... I looked in her direction, horrified to confirm that she was clipping her fingernails. IN A RESTAURANT! I gave her a dirty look. She saw it, stopped for a minute. I thought my point had been made, but realized that she took a second to tap debris from the implement. Snip...snip... snip...she started in on the other hand.

I spooned my dinner into my mouth a little less enthusiastically. And even though she was across the room, I kept imagining little nail bits landing in my mashed potatoes. Or that I didn't see them land, but took a bite and felt the shell-like sliver between my teeth.

Who raised this beast? How can a person possibly think that removing debris from one's body is acceptable in a dining establishment? She's still young, and not very experienced in the art of fag-hagness. She will discover-- sooner than later I hope, that the gay men she secretly hopes to convert will not put up with such coarse behavior. Oh, honey, that will not do.

Her boyfriends-lite will expect her to be more of a lady than they. Someone they can emulate. Someone they can borrow clothes from, with the reasonable expectation that said apparel will be free from grease stains, cookie crumbs, and BO. She should be one of the girls, not a beer-gutted, braying, sweating, snorting, butt-picking, ball-scratching loogy-factory. That's what middle-aged men(or as they're known on the street, "paying customers") are for.

Whenever I see indelicate or boorish behavior, I want to ask, 'were you raised by wolves?' But wolves, in fact most animals, are never as coarse as some people are. Except for swine. I'm no expert on the species, but in my opinion, they are the pigs of the animal kingdom. So this hideous beast at Elmers must have been raised by pigs, and thanks to her attraction to the fairer sex, there are not likely to be hoof-clipping piglets in her future.

God, that's just gross.



Blogger AskRock said...

This can’t be real! On first reading the piece I thought you was being a tad mean about the unfortunate young lady’s laugh, but as your story progressed I’m glad you lead me slowly into it. How disgusting! I’m extremely happy to say that I have never had the misfortune to dine with swine.

5:05 PM  

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