Dine at your own risk.

I was out at dinner with an LA Friend the other night. (She asked to be called Gossip Friend, but as a one-time watcher, turned hater of that show of a similar name, I couldn't consent to such a name for someone I actually enjoy.) We were at one of those trendy tapas places where they like to get as many people in as possible, so you're basically sitting on your neighbor's lap, and you can't hear the people you're eating with, let alone the waiter as he sneaks up behind you since there's no room for him to stand in between tables. (Please excuse the run-on sentence.) The tables of the different parties have a tiny space between them, so it's not actually one of those communal places where you're literally sitting at the same table as everyone else in the joint. But we might as well have been. So we're ordering our small plates in shifts, two to share, another one to share, and one each since we couldn't agree, shouting to actually be able to converse with each other, and having a grand ol' time when our neighbor sees our food arrive. He leans over to our table (conveniently located about 4cm from his table) and says, "Wow! Those look good!" He was, of course, referring to our patatas fritas, which indeed looked good, but were entirely too salty. He asked what they were, LA Friend responded, as I tend not to enjoy obnoxious dining neighbors, and that was that. Now fast forward about twenty minutes. Obnoxious neighbor again leans over to our table (leaning completely over the girl in his party seated to his left and my right) and (I'm still in shock that this happened!) sticks HIS fork in OUR patatas fritas. He doesn't ask; he doesn't say, "oh excuse me," to which I obviously would have responded, "excuse THIS," while ripping the fork from his fingers and bending it in half. He says nothing. I give him the death stare. The girl seated to his left looks absolutely mortified. The guy sitting across from him says, "Sorry. He's been drinking," or something to that effect. LA Friend picks up the patatas fritas plate and places it on our neighbor's table.

Who thinks this is an okay dining practice? Emily Post certainly would not approve! I'm not usually one to be picky about etiquette. An individual with whom I was once intimate criticized me at one point during our relationship for the way I use my fork and knife. I happen to think I use my eating utensils appropriately, and I blame any odd cutting and eating behavior on my being somewhat ambidextrous. But my shortcomings aside, I can spot rude, totally disgusting behavior when I see it. This was it. I know people in LA are supposed to be superficial and all wrapped up in appearances and image and whatnot, so this guy must have been visiting from the boonies somewhere to not know you don't stick your fork in someone else's food without asking. (That last part sounded like a euphemism for something else. Totally unintended.) So, eaters beware: if you prefer the trendy-overcrowded-we're-all-one-big-happy-family eateries, you just might encounter a neanderthal like this creature.

On the more humorous side, LA Friend reported to overhear a fantastic snippet of conversation as we left a post-dinner bar:
Person #1 (attempting to pick up Person #2): Hiii. [There may have been a "how are you?" or some other line tacked on there, but my memory now escapes me.]
Person #2: Um, we've made out.
Person #1: Oh. [Pause.] Recently?

In other news, I have reverted back to my 13-year-old self. No, I have not developed a crush on teen "heartthrob" Zac Efron. I'd rather stab a pencil in my eye. No, this is much better. Last night I watched the 2008 smash hit Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist. I had completely forgotten netflix sent it to me before my Florida trip, so I decided to forgo studying for a night (I often find urgent reasons to forgo studying) to watch it. I loved it. I can't even explain what it was about this movie (I dare not call it a "film") that captured my attention and my heart for much longer than the 1 hour and 29 minutes I spent watching it. Perhaps it was the central role music played. Perhaps it was the fact that I was sort of misfit-y in high school, in my own world, like Norah.... Oh, who am I kidding? There is no rhyme or reason to it. I thought it was awesome. I don't have to defend it. Now I must be off to go do grown-up things...like drink wine.