Obviously, any post having to do with children really touches some nerves. I'm referring to the post about children being banned at a restaurant which received over forty comments and 1,500 hits. There were some good points made on both sides of the argument. I was almost convinced that maybe a restaurant didn't have the right to ban children but then a couple showed up to work last night with their two-year old son. Thank you, couple, for reminding me why I bow down to the greatness of any restaurant owner/manager who says, "Take your kid and shove it."
The lovely young family were very kind and polite. Without any hesitation, they ordered a glass of wine, a beer, some calamari and two roasted chicken breasts. They did not order for their son. I assumed that were going to let him eat off of their plates. I wish. As soon as I dropped off the chicken, they asked for their check because they said they didn't know how long the kid was going to remain being so calm. "I totally understand, I said. As I printed their check, I thought about how conscientious they were being. They wanted to be able to make a quick getaway if he started to act a fool and I really appreciated it. They gobbled down their chicken and bolted out surprisingly fast. I thanked them as they breezed past me at the bar and I headed back to clear the table. What was waiting for me was a shocking mess.
I thought the parents were both humans but I now realize they must have been made of grains, for they had produced a spawn made of white rice. The kid had left piles of rice all over the place. I didn't even serve them rice. Is rice the new Cheerios? There was enough rice on the floor to make a dozen California rolls. It looked like a rice ball had exploded. Or maybe a rice and bean burrito, hold the beans, had thrown up. It looked like the monkey cage at the zoo. When I was kid, I went to the Houston Zoo once and saw a monkey taking his own crap and throwing it all over the place. Was this kid pooping out rice and doing his best chimpanzee impersonation? There was rice everywhere. On the table, in the booth on both sides, on the floor, under the table next to the booth. There was probably some on the ceiling but I refused to let myself look up to see because then I would be responsible for cleaning it. No wonder they left the restaurant so fast. They were ashamed of the Terror of Rice that was happening at table 16.
I went to get the broom and dustpan and started sweeping it all up. Have you ever tried to sweep up cooked rice? It doesn't sweep. It sticks to the floor and the broom and just moves from one spot to another refusing to go into the dustpan. The table next to Rice Hell gave me a look that said one of two things: "I'm sorry you have to clean up after that messy kid" or "I'm sorry about your whole life choice situation." One of the women at the sympathetic booth was very pregnant and it was hard for me to not tell her something like "You'd better not become one of these kind of hateful parents who let their kids do whatever they fucking want in a restaurant." (By the way, when Preggo ordered her hamburger she made sure to to tell me three times that it needed to be very well done because she was pregnant. As if I care why she wants her burger well done. And as if I couldn't tell she was pregnant. I think elephants gestate for less time than this woman. Her baby's arm was practically hanging out of her vagina trying to grab a french fry.)
Mr. and Mrs. Rice Paddy had a check that was $63.00 and they left me a $12 tip which was right at 20%. However, when I have to get on my knees under a table with a roll of paper towels, I expect more than 20%, people. My knees are weak and it takes a lot of effort to get on them. (And no I am not talking about when I get on my knees under a table with a roll of paper towels to give a blow job. That is 30%, thank you very much.) Cleaning up enough rice to feed a Chinese family of four deserves at least a 25% tip and also a "really sorry about the mess" acknowledgment. So ban children under the age of six? Bring it on.