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Tuesday, January 25, 2005

I'm sorry she treats you that way...could you please pass the salsa?

Stew and I were having our usual weekly lunch yesterday (carne asada in several varieties), when I noticed the conversation at the table next to us. I was trying not to eavesdrop, but it was difficult, given that the person doing most of the talking was nearly as loud as Chris Matthews. Also, the subject matter seemed to be some sort of marriage counseling.

Is this some sort of trend, to talk about someone's most intimate personal relations over chips and salsa? Discussing the physical relationship of a couple not enough excitement for some counselors without a spicy entree' to fill in the conversational gaps? I mean, I thought I was meeting the real George Costanza and discovering that he's a relationship counselor. That's like finding out that Evel Knievel is the safety patrol at your child's school.

Even more remarkable was the choice of a restaurant. "Close" isn't a satisfactory description. In the place we were, if you cut your food too fast you might accidentally elbow someone at the next table in the chin...someone on the other side of the table. Even worse than that is that the two blokes talking seemed to know four other people at a table next to them. I was trying not to listen as best I could, but I kept expecting to hear lines like, "Sexual dysfunction is quite normal for men your age (turns to other table) ...stop snickering Bob!"

Anyway, even in our highly emotionalized society I feel this is far too much for the usually neutral social environment of a tiny, crowded Mexican bistro. I hope the counselor is reading this and will consider Denny's or Shoney's next time, where they at least have booths.

Oh, and before I forget, someone named Marcia should really think about locking her shoe closet whenever Ronald's home alone...


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