Tag: going out to eat

Thanksgiving Shits And Giggles Featuring Woody Scream

Well We are Finally getting Our shit together since We got clusterfucked in-between a fucking a Surreal Road Trip and the Thankless Toils of the Thanksgiving Holidays. I’m currently working on a Post pertaining to the Aforementioned Road Trip, but it’s Slow Going since it’s such an Infuriating Story I have to take frequent breaks so I don’t Actually Punch My Computer Screen. That aside I felt the need to Address the Utter Nonsensical Onslaught of the so called Holiday Season in the Meantime. To Keep some sort of Order and Assemble some sort of fucking Sanity I will be Using the FYB Tried and True Bullet Point Format.

  • Pre Show Prep: My Wife and I have been Drafted over the Recent Years into the Unwelcoming Ranks of Holiday Responsibilities and Assorted Bullshit. So this Includes the Relentless Cleaning Up the House in Preparation of the Forthcoming Company. This obviously makes fucking Sense, and We have No Qualm with Doing. The Problem is My Micro Managing Obsessive and Franticly Stressed Mother who can make You Feel like You’re Losing Your goddamn Mind since Her Anxiety is fucking Infectious. She whips Herself up into a fucking Frenzy Running around like a fucking Lunatic starting Numerous Projects Simultaneously while Simultaneously Finishing None of Them. It’s what We unaffectionately refer to as My Mother’s Manic Host Mode where She acts like Her Life and Reputation is Teetering on the Brink if Her House isn’t Absolutely Spotless and has been Cleaned to the Highest Hospital Standards.

The Funny thing is It’s just Family Who are the Mellowest and Undemanding House Guests You can Have for fuck’s sake. My Mother seems to be Operating under some delightfully Demented Assumption that if The Family Arrives to find even a Single Speck of Dirt on the Bottom Stair (leading up to the Front Porch) It’s All Over in an Instant. As if My Fellow Family Members would Cast a Disgusted eye Upon the Psec of Dirt, Turn Around on Their Heel, March back to Their Cars, Lod up, and Yell before Speeding Off into the fucking Distance “WHAT A FILTHY HELLHOLE! SERIOUSLY FUCK YOU GUYS AND YOUR PIG STY! WE WILL NEVER SET FOOT ON THIS SOIL AGAIN AND WE DISOWN EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU DISAPPOINTING AND FILTHY FUCKERS!!!” It’s Insanity Incarnate.

               

THE KIDS: The Two Boys are Still just Shy of becoming Teenagers and as So were Willing to Speak and Interact with Us on a Consistent Basis during the Trip. Meanwhile Their Sister being 16 Years Old is Undoubtedly a Full Blown fucking Teenager. She had Her Face in Her Phone the Entire fucking Time because Her Life currently is all About Socializing and Friends, Friends, and More fucking Friends! I do have to give Credit where Credit is Due for Her Part She refrained from being the Classic Anti-Social Hormonal Horror Show Three Ring Circus of Bullshit. The Trip was Free from Conflict, Argument, Hissy fucking Fits, Screaming/Yelling, Door Slamming or Anti Adult/Authority “I am My Own Person” Self Indulgent Self Righteous Sixteen Year Old Psychodrama. So That Was A Pleasant Surprise.

The Reservation Situation: My Mother being from an Older Generation is still totally Hung Up on the Restaurant Reservation Scenario. The Problem is that Unless it’s some Super Trendy Fine Dining Hipster Restaurant or Perhaps an Old School Steak House Throw Back Dinosaur then You Don’t actually need a Reservation. Unfortunately as Time Evolved and Moved on My Mother Did Not budge an Inch. So One Night We were going out to Eat and Automatically My Mother becomes Fixated as Fuck on the Fact the Place Didn’t Take Reservations, BUT where Kind Enough as to make Note that a Party of 10 was Headed Their Way (I assume this was complete horseshoe to placate the Madness that is My Mother. Also I don’t Blame Them a Bit since My Mother is well let’s say Intense and Leave it at That.

               

As We are Driving to Said Restaurant My Mother goes into Panic Mode when My Cousin Texted “Do we need a reservation?” and that’s all it Took for My Mother to Head for the Races. The Next thing We know My Mother has Engulfed Everyone in the fucking Car into Her Web of Sheer Madness as We all Scrambled to Solve the Situation (aka Attempt Get My Mental Mother to Calm the Hell Down). Finally the whole Reservation Hullaballoo died Down Five Minutes before We got to the Restaurant. Just for the Record the Drive was 42 Minutes Long and it took only Two Minutes before My Mother got Triggered by the Innocent Reservation Question. That Means the Reservation Dilemma essentially lasted the Entire Fucking Ride.

Once We Enter the Resturant even though it’s 8:30 on a Saturday Night was like a Scene from a Shitty B Comedy Movie was Empty as Empty could be. The Only other fucking People there besides Us are the fucking Staff. That’s it just Us and the Boarded looking Staff After all the Old School Reservation busllshit Versus the New School No Reservation Needed the place Didn’t have a Single other Customer. It was so Dead in there I honestly felt fucking Bad for the Poor Waitress who just so Happened to Be the Nicest, Professional, Personable, and Kickass All Around Waitress I have Even Encountered. The way I figured it She was Financially fucked since Working at this Particular Restaurant was making Her a Damn Thing, or She was One of the Working Poor who had Several Restaurant/Food Service Jobs just to be able to Scrape By. All I hope is She finds a Better and More Lucrative Job then the Graveyard of a Restaurant where She is currently Employed.

                  

Litter Patrol: We live so Far Out in the fucking Middle of Nowhere USA that We Don’t have Trash Pick Up so No Garbage Men/Women or Trash Day. Instead We have to Haul Our own Stinky Shitty Trash down to the Town Dump (Which is Actually just a Parking Lt with a Bunch of Dumpsters line up Designated for Different Shit (Example: Plastic, Yard Waste, Metal Etc.). One of the Unfortunate Side Effects of this and People be Lazy as Fuck is there is a Real Litter Problem. Along some Stretches of Road there’s all kinds of Shit like Fast Food Containers from Places that are fucking 30-45 Minutes Away, Old Tires, Beer Cans/Booze Bottles (There so Many I swear Every motherfuckier in Town is Drunk Driving), Broken TV’s, Ratty Ass Furniture like Old Worn Out Love Seats and Shit, and a Shit Ton of Rotting Plastic Bottles.

This lead to My Mother having the Idea to Subtly Suggest that Why the Family is here that We clean up Along Some the Roads that Run Through the Vast Property. This was a Nice and Generally Well Received by All until My Mother started to get fucking pushy as Shit Pushing the Issue and Badgering Everyone. I told Her it was fucking Insane that She went fro Subtle Suggestion to Full on Demanding Compliance Immediately. First Off Not everyone Agreed to Help which was Fine and Expected, but then My Mother got bent because My Cousin wouldn’t Allow the Boys to go Out and Collect Trash on the Side of the Road because it would be Dangerous. She was and is Absolutely right on that one it is fucking Damn Well Dangerous.

                   

The Speed Limit is 55 and as You can imagine People average 65 or Higher and the fact there is Only 3-4 Police Officers allows People to Drive even More like Total Assholes. Then there are Several Blind Curves which are just begging to be the Sight of a Fatal Car Accident so again Imagine People Speeding around Blind Curves would You want Your Kid Standing There Fuck No You Wouldn’t. Lastly the Road is a Main Route for Eighteen Wheeler Logging Trucks which as We all Know take Forever and a fucking Day to Slow to a Gradual Stop.

At Last My Wife, My Cousin’s Husband (looking to escape the Chaotic Confines of the House), My Mother, and I Headed Out to Help Tidy up the fucking Roadside. Now after spending 3-4 Hours Ranting, Raving, and Being a Total Dick about the Whole Thing My Mother Collected One Bag of Trash in 15 minutes and Then Declared She was Tired and Done. The Three of Us remained and Managed to Pack 22 Trash Bags to the fucking Gills with Roadside Garbage. Not too Shabby for damn Near Forced Labor.

The Getting Ready Dilemma: This is the Asinine bullshit that I Hate the Most out of all the Family fucking Nonsense is the Getting Ready Principle. This happens Every fucking time before Every fucking thing We plan to Do when the Family is in Town. As the Deadline Approaches Family Members mingle around Idly just Killing Time fucking with Phones, watching TV, Reading a Book (Yes some of Us still Read fucking Books so Fuck You if thats weird to You), or smoother Mindless Time Wasting Activity. The Point is this getting Ready to Leave Limbo is We aren’t even Interacting with one Another while We wait. It’s like We’re all Hanging around Some Sort of fucking Waiting room for an Appointment that’s Never Coming.

One by One Each Family Member States that They have to Get Ready and then set off to Allegedly do so. I say Allegedly because though Everyone leaves under the Presence of getting Ready to Go NO ONE actually appears to actually be getting ready. This process wastes a good 45 to 60 Minutes as Nothing gets Accomplished while People Drift Room from Room like Human fucking Jellyfish. I detest Downtime I really fucking Hate it because I get Bored Easily, and I fucking Hate Boredom with a Passion so This Aimless Lackadaisical Idiocy infuriates Me to No end. Then just like a fucking Football Game after Squandering a Good Amount of Time in the Final Minutes Everyone jumps into fucking Action. Then all of a Sudden Everyone is Ready and Walking out the fucking Door so what this all Means is They can get Ready in a Timely Manner, but They Delay and Dawdle away a Hour for No fucking Reason Whatsoever. I simply Cannot get My Head Around Such Drivel.

             

Game Night Without The Kids: On One Particular Night the Kids went to Visit some of Their Other Relatives leaving the Adults Alone for the Evening. After the Drinks Started Flowing My Wife Suggested Breaking Out the Game Cards Against Humanity since We were Kid Free, and It’s I think We can All Agree Not a Game for Anyone Under 18 Years of Age (Some May Argue No One Under 21 Years Of Age). For those Who are Not Familiar Cards Against Humanity is an Adult Party Game in Which Players complete Fill-In-The-Blanks Statements using Words or Phrases Typically Deemed Obscene or Offensive in Nature.

Undeniably the Some of the Games Appeal comes from the Fact Younger Generations get a kick out of Hearing Older Generations Curse or Use Sexually Charged Language. The Assumption made by The Younger Generations is that the Older Generation will be Utterly Clueless when it comes to the X-Rated Content. The Ironic thing is the Old Generations DO know about all the Crazy Sex shit it’s They just Don’t know what it’s Being Called Nowadays (Example: Russia used to be The Soviet Union and the USSR in its Past though its Always been the Same Geographical Location).

My Cousin’s Husband remember Playing it one Time Long Ago and was Definitely in Favor of Playing that was Until We actually Started Playing. We were about 8 minutes into the Game when He started to Regret His Initial Endorsement for Playing Cards Against Humanity in the First Place. He was Consumed by Embarrassment and Tried to Avoid dwelling on certain Topics like Describing what the Sex Toy Known as the Fleshlight was to His In laws. My Wife and I were having None of It and Informed Him once the Game started there Wasn’t any Backing Down, Sugar Coating, or Skipping Over a Single Aspect of the Game. Watching My Cousins Husband Squirm Uncomfortably Blushing with Embarrassment was the Highlight of the Game as Far as I’m Concerned.

And So this Brings Us to the End of this Pos on Thanksgiving Tensions. I wanted to End this Post a Little Different from Previous Posts So I Included the Feature Video WOODY SCREAM below to Summarize My Feelings Pertaining to the Hell of the Holidays. Now On to Christmas!

Enjoy.

Thanks For Watching,

 By/Presented By Les Sober 

Millennials, a Bistro, and a Whole Lot of Bullshit.

This Weekend My Wife and I went to see Her Cousin Ave compete in that Weekend’s Auto Races since Ave had become an Adamant Racer several years ago, but this was the First time My Wife and I were able to Attend. After the Race We got the pleasure of meeting His Pit Crew so to Speak as They were Working Their Asses off at the Time, and We were Afforded an Up Close and Personal look at His Race Car. Ave’s Parents Kay and Jay along with Ave’s Wife Steph were there though They didn’t attend a great deal of Ave’s races. This was simply because Watching Ave Race was/is Nerve Wracking to Say the Least for His Mother and His Wife.

After Hanging out for awhile Behind The Scenes We left the Race Track and headed for Our Dinning Destination for the Evening just a short 15 minutes Away called Pompous Bistro and Beer Garden. Since Ave was the one who made the Reservation (and I trust Ave), AND with Beer Garden in the Name I was Highly Optimistic.

You see I rather Eat in than Eat Out honestly since Restaurants can be a Huge fucking Hassle especially if You’re Not a Trend Chasing Hipster Lemming or a fucking Foodie. In Addition I am NOT a Fine Dining Person fucking Period.  I am Reviled by the so called Luxurious Fine Dinning Experience I find it Disgusting all Around and on All Levels. The Whole Arrogant Elitist Pomp and Circumstance feeling, nay believing They are Superior to Others based on Their fucking Bank Accounts. They can Administer Fas Gras Enema’s to Each other for all I fucking Care, but as For Now on the Subject of Alleged Fine Dining I Digress.

           

We pulled up outside and parked on the Street My Wife’s Family had already arrived, and We walked Through a Gate into a Maze like Garden that really was kind of cool. As We walked around a winding trail through the Garden making Our way to the Hostess there were Little outlets a few with Fire Pits, a Couple Lounge Areas, and several Tables Intertwined throughout.  There was so much Vegetation along with an Abundant amount of Flora and Fauna that the Garden had an underlying Jungle feel to it.

At last We reached The Hostess station which was located Outside of the Main Building as it were. I say Building because it was a Mediterranean Style Outside Dinning area where there No Actual Walls there’s just Shades hanging in-between Pillars to Keep the Sun out of Dinners Eyes. I’ve seen this Concept in the Islands of The Great Southern Swamp, and what I have always wondered, and still do is How the hell Do You Keep People from Robbing/Vandalizing the Your Establishment if THERE NO FUCKING WALLS?!

Anyway We meet up with My Wife’s Family Who were Seated already when a Overtly Dramatic Millennial Euro Trash Waitress sauntered lazily up to Our Table. She was Wearing a Sun Dress with a Plunging Neck Line so there was plenty of Opportunities to Show Off Her Collection of Pretentious Tattoos. She had every fucking Cliche in the Book of Hipster Tattoos there was the Traditional Ying Yang, OM Sign, Buddha Statue, Lotus Flower, The Joshua Tree, A Japanese Coy Fish, a Fairy, The Symbol for the Female Sex, an Elaborately Done Peace Sign, and at Least 3 Asian Characters that Adorned Her Arms, Shoulders, and Neck.

          

She Talked as if She was Bored as Fuck and could care facing Less about Us or any Other Customers. As She stood at the head of Or Table with Her head Slightly Tilted to one side, and a Vacant Stare into the Horizon informed Us of the Following. Apparently the Bistro had recently Implemented a New Policy Our Food Would NOT be coming out all Together BUT rather randomly when ever it is or isn’t ready. This concept of Theirs goes against  fucking Common Sense as it Utterly fucking Transforms the Dinning Experience into One Drawn Out 3 Ring Bullshit Culinary Circus.

Going Out to Eat is at the Heart about Spending time and converting with Friends and Family over Food. That is why Real Restaurants rely on Timing as one of the Key Principles/Factors of Service in The Food MUST GO OUT TOGETHER NEVER SEPARATELY. This Provides for the Meal and Social Gatherings Cohesiveness and Efficiency on All Fronts. Bottom Line: No One Likes or Wants to be The Person at the Table that Doesn’t have Their Food Point Blank.

We gave The Euro Trash Hipster Our drink Order and though the Sign claimed this was a Beer Garden it was unlike any fucking Beer Garden I’ve been to Before. Usually a Beer Garden is a Large Banquet Hall lined with Rows of Tables and Benches, and They have a Very Distinct Bavarian (German) Theme to It. There is also Large crowds of Happy Beer Loving Binge Drinkers Hooting and Howling with Laughter in Total Abandon. I say this because when I looked on the Menu There was No Beer List. There was a Wine List and a Cocktail Menu, but again Not a single piece of Literature on the Table pertained to Beer. As I was annoyingly glaring around I noticed a Floor to Ceiling Black Board with the Title “NO CRAP ON TAP” at the Top. Under the Header was a short list of 8 to 10 Craft Beers I was Unfamiliar with, and that was it that was Their Beer Garden Concept.

           

We got Our drinks and about 25 minutes or so a Stereotypical Portland/Seattle/Colorado Millennial Girl sporting a Bright Plad Flannel Shirt, Jeans, and Sneakers arrived at Our table. She gave Us the Specials which I didn’t pay attention to. She then goes into a LONGER DISCLAIMER that Due to the New Policy Our Food would NOT be coming out Together but rather whenever the fuck its ready. I ordered a Bowl of Lobster Mac and Cheese, My Wife Had one of those European Meat and Cheese Samplers, Ave and Steph ordered Tacos, and Kay Ordered the Lobster Mac and Cheese with an additional House Salad, and Jay ordered two Hot dishes I forget what they were.

40 minutes Later the First couple Dishes come out and, Ironically All the Dishes were Hot Dishes while the Salad and Cold Meat and Cheese Plate did Not. Again this makes No fucking sense since Obviously a fucking House Salad and Cold Meat and Cheese Plate should have been first since They were the Easiest to Fix. About half an Hour passes as the next few Items came in a On going Bizarre Fashion. My Wife’s Aunt Kay was Served Her Mac and Cheese 20 Minutes BEFORE Her House Salad was served. Also why the fuck You wouldn’t prepare the Two Orders of Mac and Cheese since I had order it as well at the same Time and serve them accordingly, But I was left in the Lurch as it were.

           

Finally everyone But My Wife and I had not only been Served They had completely finished. And since We had to kill so much fucking time waiting on Our Food that was slowly trickling out of the Kitchen We had exhausted virtually every topic of Conversation. Everyone was Tired from the Days Affairs and having Eaten where Now Succumbing to the Tiredness that comes with Digestion. Then My Wife’s food came to the Table directly followed by Mine. Now My Wife’s Family was being as cool as shit about it it was still apparent They were ready to Head on Home. It didn’t matter unfortunately even though They were being cool You can’t get Your food last and NOT feel fucking rushed, and that sucks since You go out to Enjoy your food and not feel like You have to Eat it fast as fuck since it came out so goddamn late.

The Worst Part was the Perky Flannel Millennial Girl kept popping by Our table periodically, and was trying to be all uplifting and positive TOTALLY OBLIVIOUS to the fact that the Entire Table was slowing becoming fed up with Their Food Service. Honestly if We weren’t having Dinner with My Wife’s Family I would have walked the fuck out as soon as the Euro Trash Millennial made the Initial New Service Policy Statement. And of course I’m trying like a Motherfucker to bite My Tongue and play it cool since I’m with My In laws and Not absolutely Loose My Shit since You couldn’t designed a Restaurant I could have Hated any More Than I fucking Hated Pompous Bistro I fucking assure You. I just kept envisioning snapping and Choke Slamming The Millennial Food Server wearing 1950’s Librarian Black Rim Glasses, and a Wool Knit Hat (so He looked like the Lost Member of Cold Play or some shit) through a fucking Table.

           

At last the Painfully Drawn Out Affair was done accept Now (and I don’t have a fucking clue WHY) Some People at Our Table wanted Dessert. Mind You had some unfinished Business that I had to attend to later that Evening, and it was a 90 minute Drive back to where I needed to be to do so. My Wife saw Me cringe with Contempt and the mention of Dessert reassured Me it was just Ice Cream with a Pastry or something similar So it should be that Bad. I responded by saying that We were dealing with complete culinary idiocy being felt out by a Cliche Cast of Mind Numbing Millennial Trendy Hipster Sons of Bitches.

Seriously it Took an HOUR before a House Salad that had been ordered actually made it to the Table not to Mention Her Cold Meat and Cheese Deal that essentially came out Dead Last. My Point being I had No Faith in these fucking Fools, and Any Possible Good Will had Faded Away Long, Long Ago. I wanted just One thing and one thing Only. I wanted to Leave Immediately at that Point in the Evening. Just under Half an Hour later The 3 Ice Cream Desserts Arrived, We ate Then quickly, Paid, and Left Never to Return.

           

I still Can’t wrap My head around such a Obviously Outrageously Idiotic Service, and No One I have asked Plenty of Whom Have Experience be it Past or Present in the Restaurant Service Industry. All I have come up with is Pompous Bistro was Built as a Monument to The Mundane Millennial Lifestyle where No One makes Plans, Shit Just Happens, and Where People can Lounge Around all Day with No Concerns or Responsibilities. Who cares when Their food comes When They have No Where To Be and Nothing To Do other than Obsess about Social Media, Play Moronic Games on Their Smart Phones, Stream Netflix for 12 Hours StraightBinge Watching Bullshit, Idly fucking around with Apps, and Sitting Around Working on Their Never Going to Happen Screen Play.

Thanks for Reading,

by Les Sober

So The Other Night Like An Asshole………

So the Other Night I My Wife and I went out to Dinner with a Couple of Friends and Associates. We ended up in the City at some Upscale sort of Trendy place named after a fucking Flower. It wasn’t a Michelin Star restaurant Owned by some Pretentious fucking Chef, but it Definitely did have that air of a Fine Dinning Restaurant to it.

The Food was Fine nothing Spectacular, Yet quite Tasty indeed. When the Check came I decided on a Whim like an asshole to Pick Up he Check. Without looking at the Bill I went for My Wallet, and extracted a Credit Card thus crossing the Point of No Return, That’s due to the fact that Everyone at that point had seen Me go for the Check and All so now at this point They all assumed (as would have I) that I was paying the Bill Period End of Story.

     

I finally after backing Myself into a Financial Corner I looked at the Check to see the Total which was around $400 including Tip (and to be fare there was a GREAT Deal of Drinking Involved as Many a Cocktail met Their demise thanks to Our Throats), and immediately had what the professionals would refer to as “Buyers Remorse”. Well aware I had stuck Myself with the fucking Check, and took a minute to Compose Myself.

I called the fucking Waiter over and He came bounding over like a Peppy Cheerleader fucked a Gazelle, and Our Server was the Bastard Offspring of an Inter-special Fuckfest. As I tried not to fucking go blind thanks to Our Servers insanely White Shirt that there was in fact a Problem with Our Bill. He pleasantly asked what the Problem a tad Condescendingly. That was NOT a Smart thing To Do.

   

I decide right then and there that I have fucking had it, and the last fucking thing I need is some Pretentious Shit Stain of a Server working at a Pompous and Over Rated Restaurant giving Me a fucking Attitude. I then told Him I believe the Mistake was that He didn’t bring out Our Entrees to Suck Us Off delivering The World’s Finest Blow Jobs.

I then informed Him that if He was going to fuck Me He could at least have the fucking common goddamn decency to bring a Tube of Lube to the Table along with the motherfucking Check. I let Him know that if I was aware of what the Bill might have been I would have had a lot More to fucking Drink to Soften the fucking Blow thats for fucking sure.

     

ALSO considering a Chunk of the rather Hefty Bill belonged to the Server via His Tip I then suggested perhaps in fact He should Blow All of Us or at Least a Round of Hand Jobs because after this fucking Fiasco We could all use a fucking Happy Ending.

Just had to get that Out of My Head.

Thank for Reading,

  By Les Sober