email@example.com (that bitch) wrotes:
> Since moving to Campbell I've become addicted to Chez Sovan.
Ah, the Fatted Cat! Truly a fine dining establishment, andas luck would have it, right next door to a comfy dive bar(Court's Lounge). A few Sierras at Court's and I'm well-primed for some _potage cambodge_.
One visit in particular stands out from the others. Severalof us were in there for dinner one evening when a small childbecame obnoxiously noisy. It was being held, squirming andcranky, by its mother just inside the restaurant's front door.The mother was preoccuppied with yakking with a restaurantemployee, and was completely oblivious to the noise her sonwas making -- and worse, to the possibility that he might beirritating the restaurant's patrons.
One of the people in my (and Lenore's) party was our friendVinnie. Lenore describes Vinnie as a "gentleman rogue."That's a good description; his appearance might be consideredsomewhat menacing in the biker idiom by anyone who doesn'tknow him, but the guy has a heart of gold. Add alcohol,though, and Vinnie becomes pure id. Not unduly quarrelsomeor belligerent, mind you, but no one is ever in doubt abouthow he feels.
There came a point when Vinnie had had enough of this squallingbrat and his mother, Oblivious DeHavilland. Without preamble,hew swung around in his chair and bellowed, "Get that littlesonofabitch OUT OF HERE!!!"
The woman recoiled visibly as though from an actual slap to theface. She lingered for a moment in a vain effort to salvagewhat remained of her dignity, but she was clearly mortified andsoon slipped out the door with her little noise machine. Icommended Vinnie on the service he'd performed, and I stillsmile when I think about it. If more people were that assertivewith the parents of misbehaving small children, the public spherewould be a better place.
"Blaming guns for Columbine is like blaming spoonsfor Rosie O'Donnell being fat."