I am turning into something of a curmudgeon.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
As a rule I’m a bit of a Pollyanna, because I still think in terms of every day being a bonus, having outlived the age that both my parents died.
This week found Rob and I with old friends enjoying time together, which we still try to do every year, harking back to the days when we were all young couples with young families, sharing the challenges of parenting, studying and working all in one chaotic crazy time in our lives.
None of us had parents close by so we all supported each other through all manner of dramas – sharing babysitting duties, marriage breakups and personal issues.
We still managed to have dinner parties that went till the wee small hours of the morning and the children still woke at 6am needing attention and care, and breakfast no doubt.
Goodness knows how we managed it all but we did.
We shared camping holidays together and after the children left home we shared travels more adventurously abroad.
Now as ‘age shall weary us a little’ we look for opportunities to enjoy time together closer to home. We all now meet for getaways - the adult version of what our grandchildren picturesquely call sleepovers.
The curmudgeon bit emerged this week when we decided on our last night away we would go out to dinner at a highly recommended restaurant in the town where we were staying.
Off went all 10 of us. Other diners that night at the restaurant appeared to be much the same age as us.
The younger clientele were all outside eating alfresco.
Only we oldies needed a bit more warmth and comfort.
What we didn’t need however was the loud insistent thumping music playing throughout the restaurant.
Suddenly we all found ourselves totally unable to hear each other speak.
All we could hear was the heavy thumping of drums, not even the music itself as there was too much background noise.
I would argue that any manager worth his salt would sum up pretty quickly that half the indoor diners that night were probably wearing hearing aids, judging by the age of most of them.
How much wiser he would have been to simply turn the music down or preferably off. We asked him very politely to lower the sound a little as we were having trouble hearing anyone but of course he totally ignored us.
By then we were all exhausted, trying to hear someone speak and trying to respond with any degree of intelligence. All not possible, so as soon as we had eaten we left.
What that young manager perhaps failed to understand is that he will never have our business again and we actually spent quite a goodly amount on dinner that night.
My plea is therefore directed to the maitre-d’ in these places: surely it is in the best interests of everyone to allow diners to enjoy a conversation with their friends in relatively quiet surroundings, keeping the loud, raucous music for late night parties.
After all, part of the dining experience is sharing a good discussion together with dinner guests.
If we return next year our choices will be different. It will be pizzas or fish and chips and sitting around back at our digs sipping our own wines.
At least we can hear our conversations there.
ANNIE YOUNG