Hey, You!

Drool of the Century

I was the guy in the Corner Bakery in Huntington Beach playing with my son near our table while we waited for our food. You were the one who decided to ignore the highchair, keys and sunglasses I had placed there. Even though your own daughter made the observation that the table was taken, you shrugged and began to unload your food tray anyway. When I politely informed you that I had, in fact, saved that table, the look on your face was nothing short of contemptuous. You begrudgingly moved to the next table, but not before announcing to anyone listening that if I had really wanted to save the table, I should already have been sitting there. "Ma'am," I responded. "You are so right. How rude of me." So to mark my territory, I immediately put my son in his highchair right behind you, knowing that he would begin to howl and wail in that nerve-shredding way only a small child can achieve. It took less than two minutes to drive you clear across the restaurant. Your daughter was beet red with embarrassment. Poor kid. That's when another customer walked over and gave my son some crackers, which shut him up. It amused me greatly that she waited to do so until you fled the scene. She even called him a good boy. You see, it turns out that people hate arrogant, entitled assholes like you even more than screaming kids.

Illustration by Bob Aul
Illustration by Bob Aul


Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/o OC Weekly, 1666 N. Main St., Ste. 500, Santa Ana, CA 92701-7417, or e-mail us at letters@ocweekly.com.

 
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