Ah, such great memories from my last few days in NYC. Thanks, Mama!
A few months ago, I was at the restaurant La Palapa because a dear friend was fleeing NYC for LA permanently. It was kind of a big group because she’s a popular gal about town. At some point during the festivities, some lovely person that none of us actually saw dropped this card on our table that night:
YOU ARE SO LOUD! Please stop talking.
This photo and the card itself have become kind of a joke amongst our friends because it seemed so ridiculous. La Palapa is a fun, loud place on a Saturday night, AND it was almost midnight. Most people in the restaurant were already doing a backstroke through their fifth pitcher of margaritas. It seemed highly unlikely that our cackling could be singled out from the cacophony of this particular crowd. Clearly, some geriatric buzz-kill had their panties in a bunch over nothing.
Except um….I was eating lunch with my friend Jenn on Tuesday at this macrobiotic place on 13th Street - and a waitress was summoned by another patron to reprimand us for being too loud. We apologized profusely, and then the woman who complained said, “I mean, I can hardly hear myself THINK.”
Maybe we should conduct a decible test during our next get-together. Are we louder than the roar of a car? A NYC subway train? Discuss. Has anything like this ever happened to you?