I’m getting crankier.
The last few restaurants I have dined at (Georgia Brown’s, inde blue, 1789, Fahrenheit), I have been getting very annoyed at other people being around me. I don’t think I have a “diva” personality. I certainly don’t like brown M&M’s over the blue or demand Fiji water or anything. But I do hate being around other people in restaurants. I don’t like hearing their conversations, looking at them or feeling like I am seated just a little too close to them. I understand why people with money to burn like to burn it on private dinning experiences. Rub elbows with the rift raft? Hell no.
And while this can be added to reasons why I need to get over myself, it is also a point of concern in that I believe I am getting crankier. Being cranky is very unglamorous and seemingly descriptive of people who wear wool socks and drink chocolate Ensure. But, my tolerance level for “other people” seems to be correlated with my age. Every year I get less and less able to tolerate others.
For example, while dinning at 1789 on Monday night for RW, I had to guzzle the wine to not start yelling at the two couples next to me and my date. They were young, married, religious and talking about church and how awesome their lives were. It was like a waspy arms race. Well Brad and I think this, well Bret and I bought that...it was disgusting. One of the guys had on a bowtie and talked about how he answered some question about some religious figure on some test in his doctoral program. Then the cubby married guy next to him boasted how he answered the question. It was agreed on by the wives with the HUGE rings that they both answered very well. I almost asked the waiter to move us.
When I go to bars and order wine, I always say “Just give me a glass of your most recently opened bottle of red.” My expectation is that I don't care what they bring as long as it's not old. Similarly, I’m going to have to start saying to the cute little hostess, “Just give the table reserved for the lepers.” I don't care where I sit just as long as it's not around other people. Fucking Whippersnappers.
Whew, good thing it's a three day weekend, eh?