I Don't Have Tourette's Or Anything...

I had not seen Stamps all week so we met up for a meal today at Low Country on W 10th for some conversation and southern comfort.  Stamps was in her gym ensemble having come straight from her back to back total body conditioning and yoga classes and perched on a bar stool when I arrived.  The restaurant was surprisingly not too packed and we were seated immediately.  The table behind us was extremely loud among the rest of the mellow, likely hungover brunch crowd, with the baby banging on the table and howling and the grown ups shouting and guffawing at ear splitting volumes.  Me and Stamps were hungry, ignored the raucous and ordered - the Kentucky Hot Brown for Stamps, the Market Omelette of the Day for me and sides of cheese grits and biscuits to share.  While we waited for our meals, three men that looked like they fell out of a Ralph Lauren ad were seated next to us.  We continued to catch up with what we did over the weekend.  Stamps went to dinner Friday night and met up with a couple old friends Saturday night, whereas Friday night, following an art gallery event, I managed to get very tipsy off a combination of shots and vodka martinis at some random Lower East Side bar requiring a night on the couch on Saturday night to recover.

Finally food!  Stamps's meal was this layered concoction of french toast, smoked chicken, bacon, tomato and bechamel sauce with a serving of Old Bay seasoned fries where mine was a simple egg omelette with spring onions, grape tomatoes, asparagus and cheddar with a heap of lightly dressed arugula.  While we were stuffing our faces I overheard the youngest of the three men seated beside us, in his dapper gingham shirt, comment "This is why I only go to expensive restaurants"  He proceeded to complain in his snooty, affected tone that the loud table was "the worst I have ever seen" and "rude" as his companions nodded in agreement.  We were finishing up our meals and settling the bill when I guess the noise got to be too much for gingham and crew and the older dude to my left suddenly bellowed "Maybe if I raise my voice THIS loud I can hear what I'm saying!"  And cue awkward lull of silence by the entire room of stunned diners.

"Wow" one person from the loud table uttered while another rattled on about "What do you expect when you go out to eat?" and "This is New York City!"  Outburst guy turned to the loud table and argued his case for a peaceful brunch experience.  It became the battle of entitled snobs against a loud table of black diners in a southern restaurant - holy freaking southern discomfort!!  Stamps tried to diffuse the tension on our side restaurant and said to the men "So how's it going over there?"  Outburst guy turned and apologized to me and said "I hope I didn't startle you" (he did) and "I don't have Tourette's or anything"  I smiled politely and giggled not at all wanting to be involved or associated with entire situation. We paid and left the restaurant to walk off the food and to debrief the insanity we had just witnessed.  Stamps remarked that "For someone without Tourette's he certainly does a good impression of someone with it!"  I have spent the afternoon mulling over how the situation should have been handled since THAT was definitely not it.  I suppose a word with the waiter or hostess would suffice, but at the end of the day it's just brunch.  You will usually wait for a table, it will get loud, service may be lousy, your eggs may be slightly over/undercooked but it's a time to enjoy good company, have a bite to eat and chill out before the start of a busy work week.  Bottom line - just order another Bloody Mary and relax!!!!