Etiquette Lessons

Earlier... I was lunching at Durant's- an upscale eatery in uptown Phoenix, with Subway Man (who is not Jared, but has met him).

Durant's is kept upscale mostly by pricing - one shrimp cost $4. But, the dated building resembles a seedy dive joint from 1940's Las Vegas, and looks like you could speed off with any number of shady fishnet stocking characters in knee-high leather boots. However, there are three saving graces for this place: 1) their mashed potatoes, 2) the bronzed shoes of a singing mobster, and 3) the old as dirt women in bow tie tuxedos. We're sitting in the blood red dining room with a plate of food in front of each of us. Subway Man's phone rings. He deftly snatches it off the table answering the small piece of plastic, and starts taking copious notes on the palm of his hand.

From the environs of the dimly lit corners of the velvet walled restaurant, one of the ghostly tuxedo women materializes next to our table. "Sir, could you please put your cellphone away," the old lady in bad drag asks Subway Man. He looks up from his telephonic conversation, and opens his mouth to respond...

What SHOULD have happened:
My eyes open wide as a gasp of horror escapes my draining lips. I look at the peeked plastic manican woman with a toupee made of bleached flour polyester, and say, "Oh, no no no, baby! With that makeup job, you'd best run for cover, Girl!" I stare at her in awe as I sell my first born child so I can afford another shrimp - which swiftly gets plugged into my gaping pie hole. The woman flaps wildly about the table, emitting violent sparks over my flash of the indisputable Fashion Police Badge, and spontaneously combusts. We order more bread, and continue our lunch undisturbed.

What COULD have happened:
Subway man, responding to the interruption of vital information, tells the caller to hold on. As he places the palm of his hand over the microphone, he flaps his eyelids like a Hollywood starlet. "It's already loud in here. If you see these people around me, why don't you go take a survey and see if any of them care. Here, I'll get you started." He hands the woman an invisible questionnaire tablet, "Look, the first page is already complete, the answers are 'no'." She starts to respond. Subway Man holds up his index finger in front of his mouth then shakes his head twice, and says, "No, no, that wasn't a question." He promptly gets slapped by the bony hand of bad taste. Recoiling from the momentary touch of ghostly love, and realizing he has motion sickness, he orally donates his partially digested lunch to the table next to us.

What ACTUALLY happened:
Subway man asks, "What?"
"I have to ask you to put your phone away, sir. You can use it in the bar area, but the dining room is cellphone free." The cronies face cracks in multiple places as she attempts a devilish smile.
"Oh, ok, I'm terribly sorry." Subway man puts his phone away. Looking like a hurt puppy, his head goes down in shame and he immediately stuffs the last shrimp down his gullet.

Needing to use the restroom, I stand up and question the retreating tuxedo woman, "Excuse me, sir, could you please show me to the men's room?" Subway Man gaffs and nearly requires the Heimlich maneuver.