Siri's Elephants

So, last Friday, we dropped by Siri's Chef Secret restaurant. It looks like some place that used to serve American seafood, but now it serves a mixed menu of American and delicious Thai. Yum.

On Friday, we were early enough that we shared the place with one other customer, who sat alone, reading a paper. We admired a wooden sculpture of a boat filled with elephants bearing oars.

And he slurped.

Ugh. The man's wet smacking of his food easily carried across the room, turning my stomach. Luckily, our food hadn't yet arrived. We prayed for a larger crowd to show up and drown out the noise.

Instead, it got worse.

It's bad enough to listen to folks on mobile phones, but what is it with these Nextel people? They treat their phones like walkie talkies. Nobody wants to listen to your inane conversation! And we certainly don't want to hear that stupid bleep before and after each sentence! And we really like exclamation points! (And we miss the rants of the guy at why.i.hate.dc, because he's funnier.)

Guess what the slurpy guy did next: yep, he picked up a call on his Nextel phone.**

At this point, the Brunette excused herself for a brief bit. I was left alone to listen to the slurping, beeping, and bleating. In between phone calls, he started humming. Toneless, rhythmic humming. Around wet smacks. Are you grossed out and/or annoyed yet? I hunched over in the booth. Sloppy-eater boy started launching small pieces of food by pounding his fist on the tines of his fork (after carefully placing the bit of food on the other end). I tried to focus on a mental compare/contrast of the philosophies of Kierkegaard and Kant.

Sadly, I don't know anything about the philosophies of Kierkegaard or Kant.

From here, it just got worse. He took off his shoes. He started playing a Game Boy. With the sound turned on. He had to turn up the volume of his iPod to hear his music over the electronic gaming noises. He had to turn up the volume of his Nextel to hear it over both. He started coughing. Without covering his mouth.

When he started chewing aluminum foil, I got up, grabbed the sculpture, and started shoving elephants down his throat. One by one, the pachyderms marched into the cake-hole of this rude freak of nature. I returned to our table and smiled beatifically when the Brunette returned.

"What are you humming?" she asked.

"The Dance of the Hours," I replied, and I enjoyed my drunken noodles immensely.

** Okay, everything before the double-asterisk is true. The rest is questionable.

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