Saturday, August 28, 2004

Hey, you with the long green skirt, angry at the world. Thanks for almost knocking down my daughter in your fit of anger tonight. It must be hard to look where you're going when all you have to do is use a bit of your peripheral vision. I know a little two-year old is hard to see when your eyes are red with fury, but surely your big skirt wasn't so thick that you didn't feel her little body as your legs rammed past her in a rage. I know you must really hate the world, knowing that you have to come to work dressed like a senorita from the mid-1800s. That lacy green skirt and embroidered off-the-shoulder peasant blouse must really be an annoyance each day as you dress for work. But my daughter didn't choose your profession. She merely wanted to follow the host to our booth to get a bean burrito and some rice. The bad part is that while you must have felt her hinder your path, you didn't stop, you didn't apologize, you didn't care. Our host had the decency to apologize for you, even though it wasn't his fault. What must have happened to you tonight to cause that kind of rudeness. Did they sit five people at your four-top? Did someone give you a $3 tip on a $40 tab? Did, heaven forbid, you miss your cigarette break? Whatever the reason, you should know that my daughter is fine. She regained her balance after your rough shoving past her threatened to toppler her over. She had a great dinner, made us laugh, and sang "The Wheels on the Bus" multiple times on the way home. I hope you have a better day tomorrow. The next kid might not be so lucky.