Is it Chili in here?

Yesterday, after a particularly long and trying day that started at 7 AM and ended almost twelve hours later, Harry and I went to dinner.  For lack of better options and opinions, we decided to hit "Chili's," a place not known for their culinary masterpieces but, most of the time will at least be nice enough to serve you with somewhat edible food.

Walking up to the front glass doors with the large red pepper perched above I  noticed a couple staring intently at the railings.  They were loudly discussing the paint color and how it would look "just great" in some room of their house.

I immediately decided I didn't like them.  Now, I'm not the most judgmental person around but I've got killer instincts when it comes to whether or not someone is a "nice" person  and this time, well, it was  no different. 

The male of the couple was shorter, balding and had a stance that suggested he'd rather be elsewhere.  He was one of my best friends' ex boyfriends and a major jerk to boot.  He was an overly critical moron who insisted that my friend was not good enough for his oversexed ego-maniacal self.  So they broke up.  Luckily, my good friend married someone this past October that is more teddy bear than unbearable. 

So where do they seat this couple of ill-repute?  Right behind us.  For the rest of the meal I had to listen to this woman, who resembled that of an ill-conceived lovefest between a pale Barney the Dinosaur and that little girl from "Curly Sue." :

"YES THE SURGERY WENT FINE.  I JUST WANTED TO CALL AND LET YOU KNOW.  I CRIED BECAUSE I GUESS I GOT SCARED, BUT I KNEW YOU'D BE WORRIED.  WELL, I GUESS THIS MEANS I CAN'T DRINK TONIGHT."  This was the conversation, repeated at nauseum as she picked up her cell phone and dialed everyone in her phonebook.  She was sitting facing me so each time she yelled into her phone, the words would smack me in the back of the head and drip down my neck like verbal schrapnel. 

She left to go smoke and I reveled in the quiet. 

"I THINK I'M GOING TO NEED TO CHANGE INTO LONG SLEEVES WHEN I GET HOME.  IT'S GETTING COLD," she commented from across the room as the rest of the dining room paused to look at this oddly shaped woman scuffing across the bar area in tattered flip flops. 

And if that wasn't bad enough, as we were leaving thedining establishment, a man in front of me let the door fall back on to me instead of holding it open for me. HOW RUDE!

"Thanks," I said, loudly and with more than a twinge of annoyance in my tone. "Ass!" 

"That's my wife,"  Harry said under his breath as I huffed and puffed to the car. 

"Well!  He was being an ass!  You don't NOT check to see if someone is behind you when you're going out a door - it's bad manners!"  I squealed as I dove in the car and promptly smacked my head on the apex. 

"You know you deserved that, right?" Harry said as he shut the door and I cradled my ego and my head.

"Ass,"  I said to no one as Harry merrily crossed in front of the car, laughing in spite of my pain.