BOASTFUL ROASTFUL

 

A loud, boisterous man had entered the building. Most patrons found him rude. Many found him repugnant. Yet, once he penetrated the premises, he persisted like the pest he was. 
His entrance was loud and flamboyant.

He didn’t care what kind of attention he drew, as long it was he who drew it. He appeared with friends but soon separated himself, arms raised, as if to say 
"… look at me, not them. They are my supporting cast. They’re extras in my life, just here, from out of town. Pay no attention. Look at me.”

And we stare...agape at the willful, self-serving...
shit.The mockery of all that’s considered ‘Polite’, just flew out the (f’n) window!
Everyone sat…perched on the edge of their seats.

The Maitre-de tried to place the party as efficiently as he could. He was well aware of the moment and tried to ply the bastard from playing to the crowd. It was difficult, but they were finally seated, to everyone's relief.

He took his place as head-of-the-table, and commanded immediate attention from the wait staff.

Not this glass, it’s smudged…change the napkin…switch out this silverware…I don’t care if it’s not on the menu…talk to your chef, and get to it, chop-chop!

Chaos hit the kitchen. 

What fool has arrived? Of course we cannot prepare it, we do not possess the ingredients, and even if we did, I am not of the mindset to fix it. Bastardo…

Not taking ‘no’ for a response, the ‘bastard’ took it upon himself to challenge the chef. He entered the bustling kitchen and demanded to see the Head Man!

The head chef had no time for him and turned his back.

The impudence of the man!

The bastard grabbed him, then the chef stabbed him.

You do not come in my kitchen and tell me how it’s done!

The staff was aghast, but sided with the chef. Now what’s to be done?

The waiter went back to the table and apologized,

Apparently the gentleman had a spat with the staff and chose to leave the premises in a fit. He exited out the back. 

Those at the table were at first confused, but, given who you're dealing with...and an offer for a comp’ meal, they could not refuse, and any break from the big baboon, was a wonderful excuse. What a fortunate passing. They toasted the chef and had a marvelous dining experience, promising to come back the next time they were in town.

Two weeks had passed, and the restaurant offered up some special cuts, and a faux gras to die for. It was a huge hit on the gastronomic scene, and, yet, strangely enough, the whole time, no one had bothered to seek out the lout.

V