Last night, Mr. Boe and I celebrated New Year's Eve and a special anniversary by dining at one of our favorite local restaurants. They were featuring a very nice preset dinner with wine pairings. I made reservations for "our table" well in advance; and we were quite looking forward to the evening. We arrived a couple of minutes early. The place was bustling, which pleased me quite a bit as the economy is still a bit rocky. (Two of my favorite spots have closed in the last year, I'd hate to see another go under.) The owners greeted us, and mentioned that our table would soon be ready. Stationing ourselves by the bar, we chatted with the bartender and a woman who was dining alone at the bar. I was beginning to feel that our seating was somewhat delayed when one of the owners came up to us looking somewhat flustered. She explained that another couple insisted that they had reserved our table and were quite upset, and asked if we would mind sitting at a table next to it. We told her that was no problem and not to worry. I was curious as to who these people were; and being right next to them, had ample time for observation. What a boorish couple! They were so loud we could scarecely converse. And they were incredibly rude to the poor waitress. First off, the Very Large Woman (she easily tips the scales at 250 lbs.) directed the waitress to allow 15 minutes between the end and the start of each of their courses. I could understand wanting to have a leisurely meal (we told the waitress we weren't in a hurry and left it at that). More on this later. The menu began with an amuse bouche and a toast of champagne (a half pour instead of a full glass). Mr. Boe doesn't like champagne, so I poured his share into my glass and enjoyed it. When our neighbors' toasts arrives, She announced quite loudly that she wanted a full glass like I had, and made noises about being shorted in her serving. The waitress tried to explain how the menu worked, She cut her off and ordered her to bring two full glasses. The meal was a four course version. We gave the waitress our selections, and then sat back for the dinner theater next to us as She gave her various orders. I tend to be a bit of a Sally when ordering, but She took pickiness to an entire new level. Our first course arrived - a quite lovely butternut squash soup. Upon observing our soup, The Show decided they wanted soup instead, and when the waitress delivered the salads they had ordered, refused them and told her to bring soup instead. We did our best to try to ignore them and enjoy our meal, but could not help overhearing their rather offensive conversation. I put the couple in the category of Aggrieved Black Yuppies With Huge Chips On Their Shoulders. Everything that happens must be done to offend them. Their behavior to the wait staff was quite consistent with this throughout the evening. The waitress delivered The Show's second course at the proper time interval (I checked my watch out of curiosity). She told them that she "wouldn't touch that" - she wanted 25 minutes between courses. So, the waitress took the dishes away and returned 10 minutes later. This time, she was quizzed as to whether or not The Show was being served the same crab cakes and fois gras as had been presented 10 minutes earlier. The waitress didn't know, so The Show said she "wouldn't touch that" and sent the serving back for new ones. Mr. Boe had had enough and went outside to smoke a cigarette. I continued to witness the entertainment. They then started discussing, at a volume which half the restaurant couldn't help overhearing, movies. They mentioned several old classic movies, and kept attributing the wrong actors to various parts. As they were so loud, I decided I was justified in setting the record straight, and interjected with corrections such as "Ray Milland and Robert Cummings were in 'Dial M For Murder', not Jimmy Stewart. And the movie in a British school starring Sidney Poitier was 'To Sir With Love', not 'Blackboard Jungle'. Poitier was in 'Blackboard Jungle', but he played a student." I thoroughly enjoyed their shocked reaction, and the fact that after that they spoke with each other at a somewhat lower volume so that Mr. Boe and I could actually hear each other over our table. The waitress then attempted to deliver the main course to The Show. She once again "wouldn't touch that" saying she wanted 30 minutes between courses. The waitress dutifully took the plate away, and returned in 5 minutes. She then examined the plate and decided that her duck breast entree, which was on the very rare side of medium rare, was overdone and that she wanted a new one. The waitress went back to the kitchen, and returned with a message from the chef that anything less done would be basically raw. She said that's how she wanted it and she "wouldn't touch that" unless is was cooked the way she wanted. His dinner sat on the table cooling while The Show waited for the replacement duck dish. I secretly applauded the waitress for leaving His Dinner as there was nothing wrong with it. He, at this point, seemed to have had enough of her behavior, and started berating her for "Acting Like A White Woman". Needless to say, in my years of experience being a White Woman, I have never acted like Her, nor have I ever witnessed another White Woman behaving this way either. 10 minutes or so later, the waitress arrived with what can only be described as seared Duck Tartare. It looked positively revolting. She accepted the plate, and proceeded to inhale her meal in less than two minutes. After all of that production, I would have expected her to savor the course, but she just jabbed each rather large slice into her gullet. This display, in hindsight, was quite fitting. The Show then continued to needle each other in harsh whispers for the rest of the meal. I won't describe the details of how they dealt with the wine pairings, but the method was quite similar to how the duck was handled, although with much samplings of the wine selections which ended up being a large quantity of Free Wine. We left our waitress an extra tip; she demonstrated a great deal of fortitude and grace with The Show. The End.