The Beat Must Not Go On

The other night we took our family to meet some friends at one of those outdoor food courts. The center had an array of eateries, and nestled in the middle of the court were a bunch of tables. Toward the back was a water fountain.

The fountain had a flat area where the water shoots up from the ground and children, who are exited about going home in wet clothes, can walk over the shooting water attempting to not get wet, or deliberately stand over the water in hopes of getting wet.

I am now acutely familiar with how heavy a child can get when they are wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and shoes, which are completely soaked, and sporting a tummy filled with food. It feels as though they weigh twice as much as they do when the are hungry and dry. Evidently the shooting water sprouting from the cement below was irresistible, even without a bathing suit.

A local band played music in the table area while children ran around, darting to the fountain and back to the tables for a quick bite of their food.

Since we were meeting some friends there that I had not seen in a while, I was anxious to talk with them. Upon deciding what to have for dinner, it became apparent that I would not be holding any type of legitimate conversation with anyone.

The band's sound system was turned up loud enough to stifle any conversation hoping to take place. This was very annoying. If the music had been good I would have saved some conversation for the "breaks" and enjoyed the music altogether, however, this was not the case.

My girlfriends and I complained relentlessly about how frustrating it was that we could not hear each other talk, let alone, hear ourselves think. When we asked the man selling boxes of CD's which no one was purchasing, to have the band turn the music down a notch or two, he agreed, but did nothing with the request. The bad music remained.

For two hours we screamed across the tables hoping that our words would be heard and that the band would stop playing. We anticipated the nine o'clock hour when the band would exit the stage area and we could resume to a normal level of conversation. Unfortunately, they played until 9:30, and by then we were too drained from shouting to reengage each other in a moderate voice level.

In a nutshell, the band sucked. My ears were ringing, my food got cold, and my children were soaking wet. Next time I'll bring the portable Karaoke machine and use the attached microphone in conversation. That way I won't have to shout. I will also bring some towels. Squirting water appears to be unavoidable no matter what the thermostat reads.

Comments

Brad Huebert said…
Sounds like fun... or not.

You know, you could have your kids weigh in before feeding them. If they're wet, they'll be heavier, so you can say, "Sorry, you're already meeting your weight quota!"

Or not.
Sarah Markley said…
NICE! you did NOT tell me about your new site.

i'm hurt. =)