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The Death of the Peaceful Meal There are a lot of things that are allowed to happen in this country without leading to a public outcry. For example, most of us just sat by quietly when the man who lost the election was allowed to become the US President. Nobody seems to worry that for some reason NASA has 3.5 Million Dollars budgeted for each new toilet seat they need to install. The FBI has "lost" 184 laptops in recent years. One thing that I can no longer stand however is the incessant singing of birthday songs every time that I go into a restaurant for a peaceful meal. The image is still clear in my mind. It was a nice sunny day, and I was excited. After all, I was about to experience my first trip to the new fast-food quality sit-down style themed nationwide chain restaurant that had recently moved into my town. I felt that a little piece of my life that had once been missing was now about to fall into place - I was one of the millions enjoying a meal at a themed restaurant! A neighborhood bar and grill that was built just for me! Then something magical happened. It touched the very center of my heart with a warm glow not unlike that of acid reflux disorder. A procession of happy, clapping, singing staff members paraded across that restaurant to sing happy birthday to someone. Wow! I have never seen so much caring displayed by total strangers! I was truly touched. Nearly ten years and about 856,713 birthday songs later my attitude has changed for this particular tradition. I am starting to get the feeling that I am the only one who feels this way because it seems like every restaurant in the country has adopted it. I couldn't give a fuck less if a naked waitress came out doing backflips and singing with a lit candle sticking out of her ass. I don't want to hear annoying waiters and waitresses with no musical talent butchering a song that used to bring some joy to my life. All of my childhood birthday parties have now been tarnished. Every trip to a restaurant creates a new level of fear as soon as the singing begins. What if the members of my party are trying to play a cruel joke on me? Are they coming over here? If you sing to me I will shove this straw up your nose and pull your brain out. This past weekend I had a nice relaxing meal at a very pricey restaurant in Portsmouth. I had the best filet mignon I have ever had in my life. It was quiet. No singing. No clapping. No back-flipping waitresses with ass-candles. Apparently you now have to pay $25 a plate to get a peaceful meal. And you know what - It was more than worth it.
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