Friday, October 22, 2010

Diggin' Fer Gold.

There's gold in them thar hills!

Picture it - Manhattan. Polly Prissypants and I are attempting to have one final luncheon before he deee-parts New York City for that Swirling Vortex of Hippies known as the Bay Area. (Yes, in California.) Now, we were planning to go to the gayest of all gay New York restaurants - VNYL - when we saw a notice from the Health Department slapped on their door. They done been shut down, y'all. It appears their pipes burst and flooded the joint with dookies and number ones. Ain't no one want to gobble a tofu wrap in that sort of mess, so we considered our options. I hate most restaurants in this area because I can't eat at any of them. But Polly Prissypants pleaded with me to peruse the menu at Eatery, one of his favorite luncheon diners in the vicinity - and, after glancing at it, I noticed they had added a tofu burger to their menu (a rather toothsome entree, I might add - try it out sometime. The shit was fucking good).

I agree to his terms, so we enter the establishment and are seated right next to a vacuous pair of twat blondes. Polly Prissypants had spotted them and very surreptitiously attempted to get me to sit elsewhere, but I didn't pick up on it. Down I sat, and then I heard one say, "Yeah, it wasn't like English as a Second Language, it was like ESOL - like to teach to people in like a totally different country. Like foreign." And I realized what PP had been trying to do. I said, "We need to move right now." He replied, "I tried to tell you..."

Nothing. And I mean NOTHING - gets on my nerves faster than these airheads who have descended on New York City like a plague since that Sex and the City bullshit made being an upwardly-mobile idiot trendy. GOD DAMN IT. Why can't there be a resurgence in crime so these assholes run back home to their rich parents???

So we move. And then it happens. Behind us, a man in his 50s is flossing his teeth. Not casually - not this one. He is GOING TO TOWN. As if his life depends on getting that strand of food out from his dentition. Back and forth he motions, and despite the fact that he's covering his mouth his his hand, we are HORRIFIED.

Who the fuck goes to a restaurant and flosses their fucking teeth at the table? If you can't wait til you get home, go to the god damn bathroom! No one wants to have to worry about plaque or semi-masticated pasta flying around the joint and potentially landing on their sleeves, their caesar salad, or their face. Just plain gross.

And yes, example no. 432 of why our society needs to crumble. And I mean right now.