"Well, I Thought It Was Funny..."

It is a regular occurrence with me. I observe or hear something I think is funny and I am unable to restrain myself from making some comment, too often much to the chagrin of my dear wife, who thinks the verbalized observance on my part is either "too loud," or at worse "too loud and totally inappropriate." She is usually right...but I do it anyway.

After church this past Sunday we decided that since there was nothing in the refrigerator but cobwebs perhaps we should grab a quick bite to eat at one of the local restaurants before returning home. Judi selected the Winghouse, a sports bar/eatery that has 2,912 televisions lining the walls, all tuned into the various on air sporting events, none of which can be heard due to the incessant beat of the throbbing rock music blaring from an equal number of stereo speakers. Throw in a couple dozen rabid sports fans, rooting at a fever pitch for their respective teams, and one quickly understands that quiet conversation is out of the question.

Upon reaching the entrance we were greeted by a young lady who obviously came through puberty with flying colors and, to her credit, cheerfully greeted us as though she'd been waiting at that door all night long for our arrival. "Hi! Would you like a table?" There instantly was my opportunity for a impromptu remark. "I'd like a bar stool, but if they have all been given away, why yes, I'll take a table. Do you gift wrap?" Even Judi thought that was funny. However, the hostess, whose still developing brain hadn't apparently caught up with her very mature body, failed to make the leap of synapse, and with that unmistakable quizzical look on her face said, "Let me show you your table." I let it go.

Upon directing us to our table, situated directly right under two of the television sets that were impossible to view from our vantage point, she yelled "Your waitress will be with you shortly." Right on cue came another twenty-something beauty whose outfit consisted of a pair of shiny black short-short pants that would give Hugh Hefner a cardiac infarction and a top that was so low cut that one could almost see Brazil. "Hi! I'm Darla and I'll be waiting on your table today." My cue. "Waiting for it to do what?" Another quizzical stare...she probably being the twin sister of the hostess. Undaunted, her jiggly enthusiasm (and I mean that literally) gives new meaning to the word effervescent, as her every spoken word was punctuated by gyrations of her entire body. When we finally gave her our food order, one would think she had just won the lottery.

If you have seen the commercial with the toddler boy who is sitting at his computer's keyboard and touting how much money he has made trading stock, so much so that he spent some of his profits on renting a clown: "BoBo, there," you would appreciate how I, like him, had "underestimated the creepiness" of the situation. If there are indeed outer space aliens who wish to find a location wherein to easily invade the minds of we human inhabitants, I cannot recommend a better place than this particular Winghouse. If there is a shred of intelligent life in the place, it escaped me.

Come quick, my little space buddies. I can use an extra table for my home.