This past weekend I went up to Stowe for some skiing. On the trip there, a bunch of us stopped in New Haven, CT for some pizza. And can I tell you that I formed so many enemies there? In a matter of 5 minutes in the lobby of a pizzeria, I got hated on.
First, I said that I’d never had New Haven pizza because why would I ever just randomly be there? I’m either in Boston or NYC…never New Haven. And about 8 New Havenians turned around and evil eyed me. Like I told them I took a poop on the statue of the town’s founder or something.
When we were told a party of 10.5 was ahead of us, a lady joked Oh there must be a kid in that group! Then I went on to say that children only count as half a person. In front of about 3 sets of parents and their children. Evil eyes. Again.
So once we were seated, I made a conscious effort to not say anything that would offend or cause riots at the nearby tables. Epic fail, you guys.
This table next to us was comprised of a father and his three kids; two boys, one girl. This man had no control whatsoever over any of his children, and just let them run all bat shit bonkers all over the place. The two boys armed themselves with butter knives and began having sword fights around their table while the dad chatted on the phone. And then there was this.
This man had a depressed, under-aged street walker with a fistful of twenties as a daughter, sadly walking around the restaurant. Probably pondering if what she just did was worth the cash she just got paid. And it’s not like she’s gonna end up seeing any of that cash, anyways.
All the money probably goes to paying for emergency room visits for her little brothers who have superficial scratches all over their bodies from butter knife fights or whatever. But I guess that builds character. Which is good, because hookers with a heart of gold always end up going for more, leading them to a lavish lifestyle and a Richard Gere related romance. Movies taught me that.
I’m sure it will all work out for them in the end. Slash not. Whatever, New Haven hates me, so I can’t be bothered caring too much.
photo via Gillian