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Last week, my youngest niece had a birthday. As it happened on a weekday, we celebrated by taking her to Chuck E Cheese’s over the weekend, with mom, dad, the grandparents, big sis, and of course myself in attendance. Li’l niece had a grand time.
The celebration was marred, however, by a confrontation with another customer. As we were singing Happy Birthday, some jackass from a neighboring table interrupted, complaining that we were ‘making too much noise.’ He rationalized this by claiming he’d brought his family – to CHUCK E CHEESE’S – for a ‘quiet dinner’.
Basically, I told him to go piss off.
Well, this didn’t go over too well with him at all, and he puffed up like a rooster in an attempt to intimidate. One problem with that plan – I’m 6’-4” and built like a longshoreman. Not overly muscular, but fairly large nonetheless. I think he just about soiled himself when I stood up.
He wisely chose to retreat, yelling that he was going to tell a manager.
The manager he went to go fetch never materialized, but a few minutes later, the guy came back to the table, collected his family, and left, glaring daggers at me.
Seriously, I don’t know what ass-backwards dimensional plane in which Chuck E Cheese’s qualifies as a restaurant where someone can expect to have a ‘quiet dinner’. Hell, I’m not sure Chuck E Cheese’s qualifies as a ‘restaurant’, period. It’s basically an arcade with an oversized snack bar. Nobody goes there for the food.
Even if this was a more traditional restaurant, what brain-damaged moron could seriously have an issue with some people singing Happy Birthday to a 7-year-old girl?
The celebration was marred, however, by a confrontation with another customer. As we were singing Happy Birthday, some jackass from a neighboring table interrupted, complaining that we were ‘making too much noise.’ He rationalized this by claiming he’d brought his family – to CHUCK E CHEESE’S – for a ‘quiet dinner’.
Basically, I told him to go piss off.
Well, this didn’t go over too well with him at all, and he puffed up like a rooster in an attempt to intimidate. One problem with that plan – I’m 6’-4” and built like a longshoreman. Not overly muscular, but fairly large nonetheless. I think he just about soiled himself when I stood up.
He wisely chose to retreat, yelling that he was going to tell a manager.
The manager he went to go fetch never materialized, but a few minutes later, the guy came back to the table, collected his family, and left, glaring daggers at me.
Seriously, I don’t know what ass-backwards dimensional plane in which Chuck E Cheese’s qualifies as a restaurant where someone can expect to have a ‘quiet dinner’. Hell, I’m not sure Chuck E Cheese’s qualifies as a ‘restaurant’, period. It’s basically an arcade with an oversized snack bar. Nobody goes there for the food.
Even if this was a more traditional restaurant, what brain-damaged moron could seriously have an issue with some people singing Happy Birthday to a 7-year-old girl?
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