Tuesday, January 24, 2012

"F" Bombs Kill Your Appetite


Last night I was out to dinner.  It wasn’t a fancy place, but certainly, not a dump.  The Olive Garden, where everyone’s family (or something like that.)  



As soon as we sat down to eat dinner I noticed a table of gentlemen all in their early forties sitting together.  I knew right away that they were visiting from out of town for work.  As I eavesdropped I heard them talking about their jobs- sales.  I knew I was in the presence of salesman.  Certainly nothing wrong with their profession, believe me, but their behavior was grotesque.

Every other bite of food I took was shoved down my throat with some expletive I really didn’t care to hear.  And, certainly the three year old at the nearby table didn’t either. 



I’m not a saint, nor a prude, but I found it repulsive.  Just ugly.
And, here’s the hypocrisy, I’m the biggest culprit sometimes.  I drop ugly word bombs when I’m having a bad day.  Heck (not hell), I curse when I am telling a story, when I’m excited, and even when I’m sad.  A lot of people do.  Maybe I’ve been conditioned this way over time.  And, even though my mother yells at me, it often goes in one and out the other.

But, last night I realized after the fortieth “F BOMB” that came flying out of “Mr. 3rd in the Nation”, (yup overheard the ego maniac bragging to his counterparts) it just became vulgar and super unattractive, especially in a public place. 

To top off all the potty talk, one man decided to hand the waiter his arse (not a typo) because he forgot his salad.  Yeah, he mentioned that after he already finished his main course.  “Make sure you take that salad off the bill that I never received.” 

Um, do you just want to look like you matter in front of your nervous high school server?

Or, did you just want to berate him in front of your wanna-be- superhuman-friends?

And, can you say cheap?  You know that dinner was being expensed.  And, I would think if you’re third in the nation for your sales performance, a salad isn’t going to strap you financially.

For God’s sake I BLEEPING hope not.

Now, back to the point…

Last night I realized how ugly cursing can be.  I’ve always known it’s not ladylike, but it’s not gentlemanly either.  Same rules apply for boys and girls and grown ups.

I’d like to think I’m not loud and obnoxious when I choose to use filthy words.  I also don’t make a practice of it in public places.  After last night, I’m swearing off some not so pretty nouns and verbs.  I promise to do my best because if I sound half as trashy as the men in white suits I’m highly sickened with myself.  I will be more than happy to put soap in my own mouth.

You get passes here and there.  Everyone knows a funny joke needs a good curse time to time, with emphasis on the curse!  But, when we are cursing loudly at The Olive Garden and have no regard for other’s preference, or tolerance…that’s just rock bottom behavior.

If you’re going to use foul language, at least use it like most people…VERY, VERY QUIETLY, OR STICK A BREAD STICK IN YOUR MOUTH SO I DON’T HAVE 
TO!



Note to reader: No breadsticks were harmed or wasted last night on the sales team from Alabama.