My wife and I had dinner at one of our favorite seaside restaurants last night.  Having just come back from vacation, it was a way to try and ease back into the real world, assuming there is such a process.  After all these years I have yet to find the proper method of bringing my mind and body back from the feeling of warm sand around my toes, sunshine, cold beer and relaxed people, and then going right into a busy airport, grumpy returning tourists, smelly people on cramped planes, psycho drivers on the constant brink of road rage…and work.

This restaurant is classic.  Unpretentious, simple, many open windows (except today as it was closer to 100 degrees), and a great view of the river just before it hits the ocean.  Usually the parking lot is a mob scene during the summer, but we lucked out it seemed.  We were seated with a clear view of the water, and proceeded to smile, and then start to relax…enjoying each other’s company.

But the place was loud, more so than usual.  With both of us in full “totally relaxed from vacation, soft-voice mode”, it was like a scene from Seinfeld.  My wife could have said to me “I want to sniff your nose droppings”, and chances are I would have smiled and nodded thinking she said “This place is wonderful.”  But we still didn’t mind.

That’s when I saw the wait staff rearranging two tables to form one big table.  Always a bad sign, especially when it’s already noisy.  A group was coming.  Sigh.

But it got worse…at both ends of what was now a long table they placed those high-standing baby chairs.  AARRGGHH!!!  Babies were coming!!!  Why does this always happen to us!!!

And still it got worse…as expected, two cuddly, fat, little babies appeared in the arms of disinterested-looking adults, anxious to off-load the cretins as quickly as possible.  But ALSO in tow were two young girls.  At first I didn’t see them…I HEARD them.  Yelling, in that high-pitched, little-girl, shatter windows and teeth squeal that cannot be duplicated by any inhuman means.

Snot Girl 1:  “MOMMY!  MOMMY THIS is MY chair!!!”
Snot Girl 2:  “NO it’s MY chair!!”
Snot Girl 1:  “I saw it FIRST!!”
Snot Girl 2:  “I saw it first!!”

At this point both of the little snot-darlings were struggling to occupy the same chair.  And Mommy?  Ha…as far as she was concerned the girls were occupied, and that was apparently a blessing.  Daddy looked away like he didn’t have any association with ANY of these people, no doubt thankful that at least he wasn’t missing the Red Sox game.

After they sat down, normal conversation was impossible.  It would have been preferable to have a running Pratt and Whitney jet engine running at full-throttle next to us instead.  At least we’d have a chance against that.  We resorted to sign language, which is Ok but I’m a bit rusty.  I think I smiled and told her I wished I could take her away again to a remote island and shave her armpits.  Either that or I implied she had BO, because she pulled back a bit, her smile fading as she checked her underarms.

But seriously, we did our best to ignore the increasing decibels and enjoy ourselves.

Then THEY walked in.  Two older women, obviously believing they were some type of fashionistas.  When I saw them I merely smiled.  Nothing we hadn’t seen before, and hey, to each his own…if they wanted to dress that way, more power to them.  To be honest they looked like they were happy and having fun.  Good for them!

Then they sat down.  What happened next reminded me of that movie by John Carpenter called “The Fog”.  That’s where this evil fog bank creeps to shore at night, carrying within it evil demons that can kill.  Slowly and painfully, of course.  Well, we couldn’t actually SEE the fog in this case.  All I did see at first was that our wine and water glasses, which were situated between us and the women, started to cloud over, like some strange substance was enveloping them. 

It began on the far side, and then slowly advanced towards us.  Next we saw the candle flicker, and almost extinguish, like some unseen entity had attacked it.

The next closest object between us and them were our arms, extended slightly in front of us as we sat.  At first I felt a slight tingle, and then the hairs on my arms began to…contort is perhaps the right word.  It’s like they sensed something…evil&hel lip;and they were struggling to get away.

Unfortunately, these early warnings did little to protect us as the “cloud” was advancing rapidly.  By the time it reached our faces, it was too late. 

We were under attack by…perfume.  Gallons and gallons of perfume.  It’s as if these ladies ordered their favorite Eau de Crap in convenient 55-gallong drums, and before they headed out to dinner they each bathed in it.  With their clothes on.  AT first it was just a mild attack.  But then they did the unthinkable…they opened the window next to them, causing the breeze outside to suddenly push their entire entourage of stinkdom across the whole dining area.

Babies went unconscious.  Little children slumped over in their chairs.  Old men clutched their pacemakers.  The color of the paint on the walls began to change.  I could feel my nose hairs being singed off as if a ghostly flame was being held up there.  It was thick.  There was no escape.

We very quickly paid our bill and make a beeline for the exit, gagging the whole way.  What is it with people who think it’s acceptable to replace half the water content of their body with perfume or cologne?  Especially crappy stuff that remove Teflon from cookware from over ten feet away???