Dining at 110 Decibels
On two occasions my Aunt M arranged family fetes at a particular restaurant in Hollywood. It's a famous old place (since 1909, which may not be old in Rightpondia, but in Hollywood that's as old as old gets), and the first time I was looking forward to dining at (what I thought was) a snooty restaurant.

I get to the restaurant, and it's a huge box. Just a big mess hall with about 300 people. There are no draperies or tapestries. The ceiling is plain flat plaster. There are no internal walls or partitions. There is not one millimeter of sound absoring substance anywhere to be found, except for eardrums. It's a big echo chamber with an incessant clanging of plates and cutlery, plus the sound of a few people screaming to be heard by their dining companions.

I tough it out for the sake of the family. Afterwards my mother mentions that I wasn't very sociable. Yeah, right. I tell Aunt M that I had a terrible time due to the noise, and she asks "But wasn't the food good?" I try to explain that the quality of the food doesn't enter into it. I would rather have a McBurger than go into that echo chamber.

Aunt M and I will never agree on food. Her idea of good food is food you can neither smell nor taste. I rarely have objections to such food, but I do not wish seek it out nor pay high prices for it.

A year later Aunt M does it again. I am called to another soiree at the echo chamber. I point out how noisy the place is (which Aunt M does not recall). I suggest we go to some place quieter where we can chat. Again she asks "But wasn't the food good?" Anyway arrangements have been made, and someone is in town who must be taken to a "good" restaurant.

This time I arrive with a raging headache, and the restaurant is even noisier than before. As soon as the waiter takes my order, I walk outside. I come back a while later, eat my soup, and since there's no food yet, I go outside again. I come back, find the food still hasn't come, but I sit and wait for it. After I eat, I go outside for the third time. A half hour later, my mother comes out and sees me and says "Oh that's where you are." We discuss the meaning of being sociable. I point out that I am standing in the cool and quiet, ready to engage in conversation, while the others are inside the echo chamber. This wins no points.

A day or so later, I'm chatting on the phone with Aunt M. She passive aggressively berates me for walking out, though she admits it was hard to talk with whomever the guest of honor was. Then she adds "but isn't the food really good?" I again say the the food is irrelevant, and tell her categorically that I will not go to that restaurant again. Then she displays just how well I have communicated my point:

"So you didn't like the food?"
(Barticus, Sat 29 Apr 2006, 20:05, Reply)