I'm becoming more and more disgusted with places that bill themselves as "family friendly". Back in the olden days when I was a parent, this meant that your well-behaved child was welcome. Seems it means something entirely different now. Children are welcome to screech, run around other tables, crawl under tables, and even splash about in the restroom sinks.
We were in Macaroni Grill. There were two children, one was probably three, the other was about seven. They were running amok throughout the restaurant - the little one screeching as he was being chased by the older one. At one point as they flew by my table I told them to use their indoor voices. Apparently they "told" on me. A teenager came out. As they screeched by again, I suggested to the teenager that she might try to get them under control.
Well. That brought out "the mom". She came looking for the people who dared to speak to her children. It seems that in her opinion we had "no right" to speak to her children "like that". Since we'd been listening to her child screech for 20 minutes Mark told her that she was useless as a parent. The people at the table next to us applauded but the manager, (who was probably all of 19 years old with no clue about child behavior) came over to ask if there was a problem.
"Yes. There is absolutely a problem. These children have been running around screeching for the last 30 minutes and I've had about enough."
She said, "We're trying to be family friendly." (Emphasis on "trying".)
What does that mean? I wondered. "Trying to be family friendly?" She explained that there was a large group in the private function room and the children belonged to them. Fine. Why didn't they keep the little darlings in the room with them? Why had they been running around unattended in the restaurant for the last half hour?
"If this is what you think family friendly is, you can have it. I don't have to come here. And I've had as much of it as I can stand."
We got up to leave. But as I was having the conversation with the "manager" I didn't see that the group in the private function room had left. Six big guys and one grandma were waiting for us when we got outside the building.
"Are you the people who said my wife was a bad mother?"
"Not the words we used, but okay."
Then we were told that we had "no right" to speak to either the children or the parents. I suspect that they had no idea what rights we did and didn't have because they were more than likely not citizens.
They got right in Mark's face - literally inches from his nose. I think the intent was to goad him into throwing a punch. I was afraid. There were six big men. All young. And they were spoiling for a fight. I feared Mark would oblige them. We just wanted to go home. Dinner had been a miserable experience. They kept pressing in closer and closer. Mark didn't throw a punch, but what he did do was put his hands up to protect his face and of course one of them bumped into his hand. Well that got them going.
"Did you see that? Did you see that? He touched me! That's assault! Call the police. Call the police!"
To which I said, "Yes. Call the police." I figured if they called it would save me the trouble of calling them myself. Seriously there were six big men and they had us surrounded and wouldn't let us leave.
I was afraid Mark would throw a punch if they kept on so I insisted that he get in the car while I waited for the police to turn up. I could hear bits of their phone conversation with the police- "a British guy...no weapons."
The police turned up. Three patrol cars. When the police came, they spoke first with the manager. I have no idea what she said because I wasn't standing close enough to hear. Some of the men who were harassing us tried to interrupt her but the officer told them to "go stand over there" and assured them that they would get their turn to talk.
We were up next. Mark handed the officer his license. "They're making a big deal of me being British, but I'm an American." Then the officer asked us what happened. We told him and he assured us that exercising our first amendment right to free speech was certainly not a crime. After talking with one of the other officers he came back and told us we were free to go.
I asked if a patrol car could follow us home because they had followed us to our car and photographed our car and we were afraid they would try to follow us home.
"Don't worry about them. They're going to be here with us for quite a while. Go ahead home."
And so we did. But I think I'll be avoiding family friendly places for awhile. I don't need that much drama and excitement in my life.
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