SEVEN?!

*I wrote a beautiful story of love and loss, but it got lost in the internet vacuum yesterday morning.  After spending my day mourning the loss of my masterpiece, I'm back to see if I can recreate the brilliance.**

The scene: Neighborhood Chinese Restaurant

The back-story: On Saturday night, I made plans with some friends to go out to dinner.  Since there were too many chefs in the kitchen (and more kept walking in the door), I bowed out of the decision-making process.  Once they agreed upon a favorite Chinese place, they called me and told me to be there at 7:45.  This is where the scene begins.

Time: 7:45

(I walk up to the brightly lit restaurant and peer inside to see if my dinner companions have arrived.  Since the place is so small, I can see that I am, in fact, the first to arrive.  So, I open the door and walk in.  The restaurant is very crowded, and a waiter approaches me.)

Waiter 1: Hello, how many?
Me: I'm meeting some friends here.  We have a reservation for 7 people.
W1: You're friends were here earlier.  They left already.
Me: No, the reservation is for 7:45.
W1: Oh.  One minute. (He then turns to help one of his many customers and walks away.)

(Another waiter approaches me from the back of the restaurant.)

Waiter 2: Hello, table for 1?
Me: Actually, I have a reservation for 7:45.
W2: Under what name?
Me: (Quickly trying to figure out whose name it might be under) Billy, Joe, or Bob*?  I'm not sure.

* The names were changed to protect the innocent.
(The waiter walks to the back and returns with a couple menus.)

W2: Table for 2.  Right this way.
Me: No, the reservation is for 7.
W2: SEVEN?! (He shrieked, quickly turning his head to either side to survey the impossible situation I'd just thrown at him.  Then, he gave me another panicked look, and ran to the back of the restaurant.)

(At that moment, 4 more of my dining companions arrived, just in time to witness the flurry of activity as two women and a baby were evicted from their newly acquired seats at a 4-person table and were ushered over to a soon-to-be vacated 2-person table.  The only other empty table in the place was moved over to accommodate us, and we were seated.  Dinner was delicious, the conversation was sparkling, and the freaked-out waiter turned out to be quite a spitfire.)

And that brings me to the live sex show...

We were seated directly in front of the door, so I had prime seating for people watching.  Since we were such space hogs, several people had to wait for tables.  As we finished up our meal (of which I ate far too much), a group of four women (I may regret saying this, but I'd like to state that they were four very unattractive women...and they were lesbians, but let it be known that the two facts (even though one is admittedly subjective) are not inter-dependent on one another...I'm just creating a visual for you, my readers) entered the restaurant.  They waited a few minutes to be seated, and just as the waiter motioned them over to a table, one of the women turned around (as if she were on a mission), grabbed her girlfriend's face, licked her cheek and started making out in a very unsettling way.  Now when I say "making out", I don't mean they were kissing in an innocent way like you probably should when in public at a family restaurant; I mean they were "making out" in that I've-got-to-f***-you-now-and-i-think-we-should-do-it-on-this-plate-of-moogoogaipan-because-this-couple-and-their-baby-don't-really-want-this-table sort of way.

Tongues were flying, hands were creeping, and I wouldn't be surprised if indecent exposure was risked.  All the while, I couldn't stop staring (and, I should also state that my assessment of their level attractiveness doesn't make the scene any more or less gross).  Apparently, I was the only person at my table that was privy to the sex show before us (mostly because of where I was positioned), so I didn't have anyone to commiserate with, and I didn't want to draw more attention to them than they were already doing.  I mean, come on!  We were in a brightly lit restaurant that was inexplicably filled with teenage boys.  Who does that?  Seriously.  There is a time and place.  And yes, I know that I am becoming more like my mother every day, but gay, straight, or animal-loving, you shouldn't subject the public to your lovemaking.  And yes, I DID use the term "lovemaking".  Crap.  I AM my mother.

So, just a quick word on my mom...  Whenever she sees people kissing in public (I'm not talking dry-humping next to a plate of chicken chow mein...just kissing), she gets all disgusted, and says, "There are better places for lovemaking."  Not only does my skin crawl at the mere sound of that term (especially when it comes out of my mom's mouth), but I get totally annoyed with her for being such a prude.  Now I'm starting to turn around on the issue, and I see her point.  Maybe it's that I'm quickly becoming the crazy cat lady on the corner (who doesn't have cats because she's allergic and too lazy and irresponsible to care for a living thing other than herself), or maybe I'm just making the natural transition to being more like my parents (which hopefully does not entail watching Fox News every night).  Whatever the case, I'd rather just eat my fortune cookie and laugh about my fortune "in bed", than suddenly discover that I'm eating in someone else's bedroom.

Despite being horrified (and somewhat entertained, since it was pretty funny in a very inappropriate way), I had a great time.  I mean, come on, I scared the waiter (he really did scream, "SEVEN?!") and I witnessed impromptu hot lesbian action.  It's all good fodder for storytelling.  What more do you need?