Some People...

This past Sunday I was at brunch with Doug and That Guy was sitting two booths away. Sadly, into each of our lives a little bit of That Guy must fall. That Guy is typically some know-it-all who you want to hit and / or stab in various private places. On Sunday That Guy took the form of the elusive White Trash Food Critic.

We were having brunch at Trio, a tasty little restaurant in Salt Lake when the dark cloud that is the WTFC came blowing in. As we were finishing our meal, we overheard the following conversation:

Waiter: So how was everything? (Pretty innocuous question, right? The waiter doesn’t really care how everything was. He is trained to ask you that. And unless there is something actually wrong with your meal (a finger in your salad, a big hair etc…) your answer should always be: FINE!)

White Trash Food Critic: Well the meal started off with a lovely bowl of soup. A little heavy on the cream, but otherwise it was fine. Then the omelette (said with an exaggerated French accent: Ohm-leTTe) came and was a touch salty….

Me: Doug! Are you hearing this guy? He’s a moron! Give me your gun.

WTFC: …with the dessert I would recommend a coulis (sidenote. He pronounced the S in coulis. Phonetically it is pronounced coolee. He pronounced it CooLiS. And he said it like 5 times! WITH THE S! AHHHHH. I HATE HIM!)

Me: Seriously, does anyone have a gun?

Meanwhile the waiter is just staring at him. WTFC has a girlfriend with him who, understandably, looks like she wants to crawl under the table and die. Doug and I are listening in awe of how pretentious yet unintelligent this man is.

WTFC: In my culinary expertise I think that with a few changes, the food could be very good. (Wait, WHAT? Did he just say culinary expertise? Last time I checked watching the Food Network in a stained wife beater does not a culinary expert make.)

Me: Honestly. Gun. Now! (Another sidenote. At the resort our switchboard operator had a permit to carry a gun in her purse. One time a deer fell down an embankment and broke it’s leg. They had to use her gun to euthanize it. To me this man was no more than a deer with a broken leg.)