Why I hate lots of people.

I don't like to go out to eat anymore. Jason, however, really enjoys this activity. Sometimes, I allow myself to be dragged out into town to do something. Normally, I just want to stay home and sleep.

Saturday, he managed to drag me out into town to go to a restaurant. I really, really, really didn't want to go. Not because the food sucks or anything. Just because I hate people.

I don't hate everyone, mind you. I just don't like crowds. Or people who neglect their children. And this particular restaurant, a "family-style" buffet, seems to have both.

Like the woman who was there with her five children who ranged in age from one to six years old. Her primary function seemed to be yelling at the children to do things that children have no business doing. Like, this place? It has the bathrooms RIGHT BY THE FRONT DOOR. The restaurant is close to the highway. From where we were sitting (and she was unfortunately also sitting) you could not see the bathroom or the front door. No way, no how, especially if you were busy watching other children. This did not stop the following from happening:

Insane woman, shouting: MARRISA SUE LYNN JANE! TAKE SHAKIRA TO THE BATHROOM!

A small child who appeared to be approximately four years old walks by us, holding the hand of a child who appears to be two years old.

What the hell? I mean, excuse my language, but WHAT THE HELL? My son is almost nine years old and when he declared he had to use the restroom my husband immediately got up and took him. There is NO WAY we would let him go the bathroom by himself in a crowded restaurant, next to the highway, when we could not see the door.

When Shakira and her sister did not come back in what the shrieking, insane woman felt was an appropriate period of time, she then LEFT THE OTHER CHILDREN ALONE AT THE TABLE and went to the bathroom to retrieve them. She shouted at poor little Marrisa Sue Lynn Jane all the way back to the table.

I. Was. Mortified.

I mean, I feel for people who have lots of kids and no help. Lord knows, I do. But come on. I mean, COME ON.

There were two offenders sitting at the table next to us also. It was a man and a woman. I could not tell if they were on a date or if they were father and daughter. No, I'm not kidding, I honest to God couldn't tell. What I could tell about them was that they were listening to everything I said. I could tell this because they weren't intelligent enough to at least talk quietly. Whatever I said they would immediately start talking about.

Chick, to Jason: So I was thinking about Barack Obama the other day and...

Insane eavesdroppers, to each other: What about that Barack Obama? I think that there boy is a terrorist!

Chick, to Jason: I sold numerous boxes of Girl Scout cookies at work.

Insane eavesdroppers, to each other: I need to buy me some of them Thin Mints. Rhonda Sue is selling 'em for Becky Jo. I love them Thin Mints.

Chick, to Jason, loudly: DID YOU KNOW THAT EAVESDROPPING CAUSES YOU TO GET GENITAL HERPES?
Chick's son and daughter: BAHAHAHA! You said HERPES!
Jason: Um, excuse me?
Insane eavesdroppers- Silence.

Then their check came and they had a big fight about it, about who was going to pay and how much each one of them owed. Because either the man got a senior citizen discount or something. I wasn't really listening.

The final offenders were a young couple who came in with their baby. They looked to be less than legal drinking age (prompting an interesting conversation regarding the new MTV program: Engaged and Underage which I can't FREAKING WAIT TO WATCH by the way). The baby appeared to be approximately 16-18 months old.

The father was carrying the baby. He sat down on one side of the booth, with the baby. The mother sat down on the other side. Instead of, you know, getting UP or anything they decided that the baby should sit with the mother and prompted the child to WALK ACROSS THE TABLE WEARING MUDDY SHOES. Brilliant. The child banged his head on the light fixture on the way across. The parents laughed.

The mother then got up and left the table to get food. The child was sitting on the seat by himself, and predictably, he slid right off the vinyl seat and into the floor. The "father" instead of getting UP AND GETTING THE BABY OFF THE FLOOR just sat there and half-heartedly said, "Get up."

The mother came back with food. Ignored the crying child and went BACK to the buffet.

To get her husband a plate.

Instead of letting the kid eat, they gave him a bottle. The little boy cried the WHOLE TIME. The couple ignored him and talked to one another about how they couldn't wait for the NASCAR races to start again. I seriously wanted to go give the kid food off my plate, because he was clearly hungry.

So.

This is why I hate going out to eat.

This is also why I think we need to move to another state.