A Pet Peeve

Pet Peeve…Pet Peeve…OMG, I’ve got a Pet Peeve!

I was having lunch earlier today at one of my favorite restaurants…Legal Sea Foods, and it just so happens to be very convenient to where my daughter, Meghan, is living at school—can you say, "Smart Mummy!!" And even smarter mummy to get her kids’ father to pay the bill!! So, I was sitting there enjoying the cozy ambiance of the restaurant while very happily sipping my Pinot Grigio and people watching next to noticing that my son had just devoured every single one of the four pieces of bread that, I think, was delivered with our drinks…I know this because I saw the incriminating trail of crumbs leading from the basket to his mouth, accompanied with opened slabs of butter laid out before him, and not to mention his big bulging chipmunk cheeks looking back at me when I asked him where all the bread went…“Don’t answer that, Nick, it’s okay!” So, while people watching, I saw a common Legal Sea Food sighting: somebody eating a lobster. In this case it was a man who had ordered the lobster and was, as he should have been, digging in and devouring his food (as did Nick with the bread), biting the legs and sucking out the succulent meat while hovering over his plate…No, this is not my pet peeve. I, too, would be sucking out the meat of my lobster legs—especially at the market price, whatever that was, but at Legal’s it’s gonna be high. No, my pet peeve was the unmistakable lobster print bib that he was…um, wearing. Now please argue with me if you think that I’m being much too critical, but why actually wear the ridiculous plastic bib that, again, sports A Big Fat Red Lobster printed smack dab in the middle of your chest, not doubt. Yes, it comes with your fancy food—if lobster is fancy—but do you actually wear the ridiculous thing? NO!

Now I always think that after the waiter serves someone their lobster and runs away, that he and the rest of the gang--his co-waiter buddies, that is--all huddle up and peer through the kitchen’s circular window--all of them, including the cook who boiled and prepped the juicy, red yummy, and watch to see if the fool actually opens and unfolds the BIG RED LOBSTER bib and actually tie it on. I bet they’re taking “bets” to see if he does, in fact, tie it on. And when he does, tie it on, “cue” the hysterical laughter and then “cue” the timely conveyance of the quick cash very discreetly under their aprons …

I realize by now that you can probably tell I don’t wear my bib when I order lobster, obviously not—it’s foolish. Lobster isn’t even that messy to begin with. Sure it can be a bit juicy, but so is steak; and sure it comes with butter sauce, but what doesn’t come with sauce. You’ve got a better chance of spilling red wine down the front of your shirt than the lobster…but you don’t see bartenders handing out big plastic bibs with a “Mr. Big” red wine glass--tipped slightly askew-- imposed on the front and tied securely behind the drunken slob's neck, now do Ya?? That would be silly!!

The white cloth napkin placed discreetly on your lap is sufficient enough to catch any loose drips of the buttery yum-yum before your tongue takes over…and if you’ve got a tongue like mine, it surely will—or, besides, isn’t that what your chin is for??

Before we left, I casually noticed our dining neighbor eating “her” lobster, digging in and enjoying every bit of her juicy, mouth-watering lobster and without the fancy bib! Hey, that’s one bet the rich guy lost in the kitchen…That’s my girl!!