Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Well, yesterday's lunch was a circus.

During my physical while the doctor was putting on a rubber glove on one hand my cell rang. Go figure. I reached over and shut it off. Par golf.

During the debrief the doc said I was in amazing shape considering my first fifty years of what he euphrumistically called 'hard living'. We both agreed that the body is amazing in it's ability to heal itself.

Afterwards decided to have lunch to celebrate.

Needless to say I wound up sitting at a table next to a squalling kid which wasn't too bad, really until the kid let out The Screech.

I said something. I told the parents to shut the damned kid up and the mother grew indignant. She ran her mouth a bit in the indignant way some of these mothers do today because their kid is special.

She told me that her little kid was special. I shot back and asked her if her little spawn from hell was so special, how come he wasn't on the short bus. The father, somewhat embarrassed and knowing he simply had to defend his wife even though she was stupid, stood up.

I simply took the case to the court of public opinion. I turned to the rest of the diners and asked them loudly how much they liked listening to the screeching kid and chaos suddenly erupted.

The place was full of guys like roofers, landscapers and other construction types. They started in raising hell over the kids screeching. Just about everybody in the place chimed in. I sat back and looked at my masterpiece and smiled.

One guy made a comment about how the couple should have had what I will refer here to as alternative sex and the father blew up with him, ran his mouth to the man and got himself in well over his head.

The guy, a rather large olive skinned monster got to his feet and started doing the Rocky dance and asking him, "Oh, yeah? You wanna piece a me? Huh? You wanna piece a me? Get that kid outta here! Now!"

He must have had Italian ancestors because the Rocky dance seems generally to be an Italian thing.

Anyway, the father took the kid outside and the wife dutifully followed.

The whole incident lasted only a couple of minutes but it warmed my heart and made my day.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/


  1. You're a mean, mean man.

  2. You're a barbarian, Piccolo. Keep it up. I remember my bride telling me about a senior field trip in HS where the regular bus was already booked, but the short bus WAS available. Most of the seniors refused to go rather than be branded as riding on the "short bus".