to [livejournal.com profile] byob_kenobi and [livejournal.com profile] beledibabe, I hope you both have a great day!
Went out to dinner this evening with kid-unit and housemate, to a local Italian restaurant we like a lot and eat at frequently. It's a nice place, pleasant atmoshpere, great food. Service was a little slow tonight because there was a huge wedding rehearsal dinner taking place in one part of the restaurant but that wasn't a big deal. Until the Birthday Party of Doom (hereafter TBPoD) arrived and were seated in the booth right behind ours. TBPoD was comprised of about 10 young women between the ages of 11 and 13. The parents of the birthday girl were seated at a different booth kitty-corner to TBPoD. We cut them some slack at first because we realized that TBPoD participants were excited and having fun, and exacerbating the problem was the fact that the section we were seated in has a low, stucco ceiling which reflects sound, but honestly, TBPoD was excruciatingly loud. To the point that it was physically painful. An elderly couple on the other side of us were clearly upset by the noise, and a family of five at a table near us kept openly staring at the TBPoD in amazement and dismay.

The waitress came out and refilled our water, wincing at the noise and quietly murmuring "sorry" as she did so. I kept trying to catch the eye of the birthday girl's mother, who was standing there talking to TBPoD and studiously ignoring my attempts. I finally raised my voice a little to ask if TBPoD could tone it down a bit. Mom continues to ignore me. TBPoD continue to shriek. Next thing we know, a spitball comes flying over the back of the booth and lands on the table, barely missing the housemate's water glass.

Kid-unit was incensed and stood up and reamed them out. I was pretty pissed off myself and asked the woman to put a leash on them. She continued to act like they were the only people in the restaurant, even though she could hardly have failed to notice that one of the kids she was supposedly chaperoning had just launched a spitball at us since she was standing there watching them at the time!

Right about then one of the busboys came by and asked us if we'd like to change tables. With great relief we agreed, and he gave us a table on the other side of the restaurant where we could finish our meal in peace, and both he and waitress and the manager all apologized profusely. The thing is, it wasn't their fault. It was the parents who were with the kids. And clearly they didn't give a damn. They never once indicated in any way that they thought TBPoD was out of line.

Amazing.
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