On a crazy whim, we decided to take the youngsters out to dinner a few nights ago. We thought we had something to celebrate. Then we thought we didn't. Then we thought we did again--such are the ups and downs of trying to find gainful employment in this crazy economy. We bundled everyone up and headed to our local Olive Garden. It was just a plain old week-night but little did we know, we were in for a special surprise.
After the customary wait, we were led to a table centrally located amongst the booths and tables. We settled in and began perusing the menus, anticipating our taste of a somewhat close approximation of Italy. I glanced over the top of my menu and noticed a youngish couple snuggled up in one of the booths. This wouldn't normally attract my attention. I can be pretty single minded when I am hungry, but the display of head rubbing was so riveting I couldn't avert my eyes. The guy was getting a two-handed head massage, his eyes were closed as she raked her fingers through his hair and around his ears, with his head tipped back he looked like a contented cat--I expected to hear purring at any moment.
I dragged my eyes back to my menu but was soon treated to the second act of this excruciating performance. They were both pressed into the space of one person, arms intertwined. She began to rub his arm: up and down, up and down. She threw in a few caresses and pinches. Their faces were millimeters from each each other. Mind you, this is just what I noticed. I have no idea what was going on while I was regulating the drink intake and food choices of the youngsters. Luckily the two little boys had their backs to the whole sideshow.
It was only a matter of time before they moved onto the finale: face sucking. She attached her mouth to his with such force I thought she was going to bring his lungs up through his mouth. When I noticed one of the children's eyes drifting over to the display I said, "Oh, he was choking, now she's giving him mouth-to-mouth--it's good to have CPR training! So, how's that fettucine?"
Dad and I were giving each other the eye-roll, which interpreted means: "Good grief, get a room!" I mean, we're all for love and affection but let's keep some dignity in public and maybe keep it G-rated when you are seated in a family restaurant.