jackassletters.com: Perkins Restaurant & Bakery

This is one of those letters that is actually mostly serious. It seems like parental type people have no idea how to raise kids these days. I’m not saying families aren’t entitled to an enjoyable evening out, but you’re not entitled to ruin mine. If you’re not got to discipline your child (or remove him from the restaurant) when the precious little snowflake is making a scene then you really suck at the whole social contract thing.

And if you’re not going to beat your kid when he’s hanging over the back of the booth into mine, well damn it, then I just might be forced to.

Seriously, the last time this happened it got so bad I actually said something fairly loudly like, “If that kid keeps doing that, I am going to teach it how to swear.” I mean, my part of the social contract is to also be a decent citizen and refrain from adult language around children (or so I’m fucking told). Anyway, the oblivious parents in question just ignored me, so I proceeded to do just this. Wide eyed stares as I said, “Can you say ‘fuck’? Can you say ‘shit’?” The kids never answered (and kept hanging over the booth), the parents never caught on, and I had a much more enjoyable evening.

I still eat at Perkins way too often. I’m addicted to the crane game, and the girlfriend/editor/typist is addicted to pancakes, so we’re not going to stop going any time soon, but the evening in question did cause us to quit going on “Kids’ Night.” I was a little pissed they never wrote back. They ask you to take a survey every time you eat there, so you would think they’d actually respond when someone took the time to write.

Oh, and I have no idea if the kid did ever learned the words, but I tried. It takes a village.