Archive for August, 2013


He was obviously unaware that anyone much less me, sitting at the next table, was watching his methodic inhalation of muscle chowder in a bowl big enough to bathe a new born in.  His scruffy, black 1960s goatee-Chavez beard harbored seasoned liquid that escaped his large soupspoon on the way to his mouth, leaving indiscreet trails of milled pepper on his Big Bang T-shirt.  He looked like he might have just stepped out of the TV sitcom to have lunch as I pondered why he was dining alone with unkempt hair and an attitude of dis-concern for anything but that bowl of soup.

His attention was solely on detaching the muscles from their respective shells, not caring if said shells made it to the bone plate or the white linen tablecloth.  His unused linen napkin was still folded in a fan just above his plate.  I’d say restaurant etiquette was not on his priority list.

With a ring on his left hand I assumed that he was married, probably with little children and one on the way.  His half rimmed glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose suggested that he was most likely approaching, or just over, forty.

The waiter came up to him and asked if he could refresh his drink?

Without looking up he pointed his sticky finger to his glass and said, “lemon water”, then shoved a freed muscle into his mouth.

I quickly looked away when the waiter noticed me watching his customer so I tried to concentrate on the menu.

“Can I take your order now, Ma’am?”

I hate it when they call me that!  “Yes, I’ll have the crab patties and some iced tea, thank you,” I let the Ma’am thing go…this time.

He then took my husband’s order and as the waiter stepped away, I noticed the gentleman at the next table was no longer at his seat.  I took a quick look around the room to see where he had gone and was stopped by the presence of someone standing next to me, holding a napkin up to my face.

“Looking for this?” the gentleman with the Big Bang T-shirt asked.  He then set the napkin on the table without shaking it out first, and turned and walked towards the exit.

I hate it when the napkin slips off of my lap when I’m watching people.



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