Table for Two

Hey Blogheads,

If anyone is still reading my nonsensical ravings and was wondering, yes I am still using my George W thesaurus. For this week's installment, I would like to reconsider two humorous observations I made this week.

The first act opens with two young men in their late 20s to early 30s entering an upscale Mexican restaurant. Both of our heroes are casually dressed and moderately attractive. Both characters are immediately and violently pierced by the jagged stares and furrowed brows of other restaurant patrons. The two young men look at each other each having a certain uneasiness in their eyes. The host greets them. "Table for two," he cries out like a death sentence at a decibel that the guy on the deep fryer comes out to get a good look. The two humiliated men are led to a table with the best lighting right in the middle of the restaurant and hesitantly sit down.

In hindsight, I should have ordered a beer instead of a cosmopolitan. But seriously, it is an unfortunate circumstance in the 21st century the connotation that is assumed when two decent looking gentlemen enter a dining establishment at night. I am not here to judge because I have been guilty of the inquisitive stares as well. But being on the recieving end is no picnic. It doesn't stop at restaurants, I have recieved these looks in grocery stores, coffee shops, church, etc. Well, maybe not church, not yet at least. I don't think I'm alone in these feelings. I feel that there are more of us heteros out there who are being wrongly accused just because we enjoy having dinner with a friend who just happens to be a guy. Girls can luckily get away with it, and here are two theories why. It is either because it is more acceptable for two girls to hang out alone or lesbianism is not frowned on as much as two dudes.

The second act will also probably not be appreciated due to lack of experience on the readers' part. Therefore, I would like to include a homework assignment in this brief story. The other day when I was killing time before a job interview, I went to a local guitar store. The thing that always makes me laugh about these stores is the cacophony of noise that is produced by an army of electric guitars cranked up to eleven with enough distortion to make Metallica blush. Saturdays are the best time to go. This is when all the middle/high school rockers are there showing off for their peers. This past Saturday, I was fortunate to witness four of these prep-school hippies wearing their backwards hats fully equipped with self-inflicted scuff marks and fraying, and all four were rocking out simultaneously to different tunes in different time signatures. I know none of my readers (if anyone still reads this crap) appreciate this now. I want you to, desparately I do. So, I challenge you to visit a store over the holidays and report back to me on the comments with what you saw, heard, and smelled. This assignment is worth 100 points which represents 1/4 of your overall grade for this semester. Don't dissapoint me.