mortgages and a lack of respect

Last night, Gretchen and I met with Brian Brockman. He’s what you or I would call a “mortgage consultant.” We met with him since we know little to nothing about mortgages, homeownership, and financial aspects of buying a home in general. He is a nice guy, and the liaison was informative. Gretchen’s uncle is a part-time realtor at the same office, and he has been quite helpful in the early stages of our home search.

Afterwards, we headed to IHOP for a pleasant breakfast/dinner. At least, we were hoping it would be pleasant. I’m not an old coot, but I was a bit disappointed when we were seated (the restaurant is half-full, roughly) in the booth directly next to the bathrooms. There were several other tables, but still, I looked past that. I’m pretty go-with-the-flow. After waiting a few minutes to be served, the waiter apologized, and was quite prompt from there on out.

Yet, that wasn’t the main issue at hand. For the first five or ten minutes of our visit, there was a party finishing their meal two booths away (thank God for every other patron in the place that they would soon be finished). It appeared to be two mothers and three children, though I don’t know whose was who (I never am sure whether to use “whose” or “who’s.” Hi ho.) I was quickly enraged and dumbfounded by the way the two mother figures focused on their conversation and completely disregarded the kids’ behavior. I don’t believe I can recall all of the examples of the kids’ ridiculous and maniacal behavior. There was running around, yelling and screaming, playing with the “wet floor” sign and coffee carafes sitting on adjacent tables, a fight between two of, slapping the manager on the ass quite firmly, grabbing the crotch of our waiter, and the list goes on. On maybe four of the countless occasions where the kids were worthy of a spanking or slap upside the head, the moms attempted to say “stop it” or “sit down.” And back to their conversation. Did the kids stop it or sit down? I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.

It’s little shit like this that really ticks me off. It’s a lack of respect. It’s a lack of respect for every single one of their fellow customers at IHOP. They might as well have squatted upon every single one of our tables and relieved themselves in one form or another. It’s roughly equivalent. Just because you two women have grown accustomed to ignoring the incessant, psychotic ramblings and spastic behavior of your ugly children doesn’t mean anyone else has. Get a clue.

In the end, they left soon after we received our drinks. Silence and peace had returned. We enjoyed our meal. I went with the international omelet (if I recall it has ham, peppers, onions, and salsa) and three pancakes. It did hit the spot. Gretchen chose the blueberry pancakes with two eggs and bacon strips. She enjoyed as well, if I recall correctly.

It shall be busy the rest of the week. Activities include: carving three pumpkins, making my costume for Halloween (classified information at this time), writing five thank-you notes, making four phone calls, jogging, and preparing for the party on Saturday evening. Now, it’s work time. Good day.