i know what you mean!

too much soap

Posted on: October 6, 2006

I was in a pretty polka dot flounce dress, with a headband to hold my hair, going on a date with Son in some upscale restaurant late at night.  We have had our appetizers.  The waitress came by to take our main course orders, but somehow she gave us food samples before hand, and as Son was sampling each item, she commented on how each dish is short of perfection in some way.  For example, the bbq shrimp special of the day wasn’t held together well by the sauce, and the steak was kinda bland, and there was nothing special about the cream pasta.  Son nodded in agreement, saying how he could just get the same pasta at Applebee for less $$ and would have the same quality.  The waitress then cleared away all the dishes and left.  I asked Son if we should just pay the bill now and leave for another place.  “Who’s open at this late hour?” Son asked me.  I didn’t have a clue.  “Maybe I can make something for you at home?”  We didn’t have anything at home, oops.  Son said “ok let me go to the restroom, and then we can leave.”  Son got up.  The waitress brought over a bottle of beer/juice/wine/whatever, the bottle has a dispencer nozzle, you know, like those 5 gallon water bottles with a dispencer seen in offices.  It was my understanding that we will pay for how much we drink from that bottle, perhaps Son must have ordered it earlier.  Suddenly, a big guy came, put his mouth to the nozzle and proceeded to drink freely from the bottle.  Without hesitation, I leaned over from the other side of the table and turned the nozzle off, telling him “Hey we have to pay for this you know…”  The guy turned and simply slapped me across the face, then walked towards the door, where Son was in line.  “STOP THAT GUY!!” I shrieked, and shot after him.  Son was the first one to turn around and got a hold of the guy’s arm.  There were people between us, so I screamed loudly “He hit me!”  Son responded by punching the guy really hard on the face.  The guy fell back from the force, and I got a hold of his shirt.  Oh no he’s not gonna hit Son back, I thought.  I’m gonna pin this sucker down.  The crowd reacted as if they followed my thoughts, and everyone jumped on him, not to hit, but to hold him down.  I had his arm and head.  I was twisting his arm to pin it to the ground, that way he couldn’t break loose.  My other hand was trying to hold his head still, and I did this by first grabbing his hair (he didn’t have long hair, so I gave up), then later, by jamming my fist into the windpipe area, so that he would have to remain still, otherwise he’d choke.  “Someone call the police,” I said.  Someone took out his cellphone and called the police.  We all waited.  I looked down and realized that I had been sitting on top of the guy’s shoulder and body this whole time, my founcy dress covered the lower part of his face.  Hmm, better get off.  The guy seemed much calmer, so I loosen my grip.  He didn’t fight back.  He just rolled on to his back comfortably, put an arm over his forehead and laughed, saying “Oh man, I should have known better, this kind of thing can’t be done in a restaurant like this…”  The mood lightened up.  I let go of his arm.  Everyone else followed my lead.  I stood up and shook their hands, thanking them for helping me.  The party broke up.  I suddenly remembered that I forgot a big pot of Mama ramen at Tram’s house.

And then I woke up.  Shit, I woke up late.
Too much soap operas lately?


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October 2006
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