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Sep. 3rd, 2004 08:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annissamazingJust to add on to what I was saying yesterday...
Justin and I went to lunch at the Granny's Buffet in Lewiston the day after the wedding. The restaurant was pretty empty. While we were there, a party at table in an otherwise completely deserted part of the restaurant requested that the manager sing happy birthday to their patron of honor. The manager, I'm sure not knowing how to handle such a situation, decided to yell to the rest of the restaurant that we were all to sing happy birthday. Then he stood there, screaming Happy Birthday at the top of his lungs, all by himself, to the birthday-person at that table. How embarrassing for him. Fast forward to the next day...Justin and I have just flown back to Ohio and have to go out for dinner because we have no food at home. Our waiter leaves our table FIVE TIMES to join his screaming, clapping co-workers at other tables to shout their Happy Birthday chant. Maybe I was just tired, but all I wanted was a refill on my Coke.
However, Garillama's story of the sci-fi-con people singing happy birthday in four part harmony was pretty neat. :) And I'm still all for the guy at the Macaroni Grill. He can sing any time he wants.
O.K. Here's a neat story! Justin told me this two days ago. It happened just outside his store.
There's a very large guy that rides up and down the street in front of Justin's store in a Hoveround Scooter. He's so large that you can't actually see the scooter underneath him. So he just looks like a huge 400-pound guy hovering towards you. They call him Jabba.
The day before yesterday, Justin sees Jabba riding down the street. He's bleached his hair a yellow-blonde and there's a teenage boy walking next to him. Suddenly, a white Impala screeches to a stop, actually sliding into the Goodyear parking lot. A man and a woman jump out of the car. The man runs towards Jabba and the woman runs to the shop, shows something to the people in there and then follows the man. Justin went back to the shop to find out what was going on. Apparently, the woman had flashed a badge to Mike (the guy who runs the shop) and said that Jabba was a registered sex offender. The man and woman separate Jabba from the boy. They send the boy in one direction and Jabba in another. Jabba is not happy and is screaming and swearing at the man and woman. He scoots off in the other direction at top speed, the scooter squealing its displeasure at being pushed so fast under such a heavy load. Then the man and woman get back in the Impala and drive away.
Justin and I went to lunch at the Granny's Buffet in Lewiston the day after the wedding. The restaurant was pretty empty. While we were there, a party at table in an otherwise completely deserted part of the restaurant requested that the manager sing happy birthday to their patron of honor. The manager, I'm sure not knowing how to handle such a situation, decided to yell to the rest of the restaurant that we were all to sing happy birthday. Then he stood there, screaming Happy Birthday at the top of his lungs, all by himself, to the birthday-person at that table. How embarrassing for him. Fast forward to the next day...Justin and I have just flown back to Ohio and have to go out for dinner because we have no food at home. Our waiter leaves our table FIVE TIMES to join his screaming, clapping co-workers at other tables to shout their Happy Birthday chant. Maybe I was just tired, but all I wanted was a refill on my Coke.
However, Garillama's story of the sci-fi-con people singing happy birthday in four part harmony was pretty neat. :) And I'm still all for the guy at the Macaroni Grill. He can sing any time he wants.
O.K. Here's a neat story! Justin told me this two days ago. It happened just outside his store.
There's a very large guy that rides up and down the street in front of Justin's store in a Hoveround Scooter. He's so large that you can't actually see the scooter underneath him. So he just looks like a huge 400-pound guy hovering towards you. They call him Jabba.
The day before yesterday, Justin sees Jabba riding down the street. He's bleached his hair a yellow-blonde and there's a teenage boy walking next to him. Suddenly, a white Impala screeches to a stop, actually sliding into the Goodyear parking lot. A man and a woman jump out of the car. The man runs towards Jabba and the woman runs to the shop, shows something to the people in there and then follows the man. Justin went back to the shop to find out what was going on. Apparently, the woman had flashed a badge to Mike (the guy who runs the shop) and said that Jabba was a registered sex offender. The man and woman separate Jabba from the boy. They send the boy in one direction and Jabba in another. Jabba is not happy and is screaming and swearing at the man and woman. He scoots off in the other direction at top speed, the scooter squealing its displeasure at being pushed so fast under such a heavy load. Then the man and woman get back in the Impala and drive away.