
Mostly couples surround me, enjoying their dinners. A small girl has found a beetle of sorts scurrying toward her on the ground. "Daddy!" she shrieks. Her father jumps up and squashes the bug under his big foot to her delight.
Pronounced shuffling drawing near catches my attention. A large white woman wearing a Sponge Bob t-shirt, white sweatpants and flip flops drags her feet. She holds a super-sized soda and claims the last empty table. Her nails are done red and her wedding ring finger sports a big rock. She sits down with a sigh.
Moments later a small white man with thinning brown hair and dark-rimmed glasses joins her. He carries two trays of food and I wonder how he managed to navigate the door to come outside. He gives her a burger and fries combo. She begins eating before he unloads the other tray. He sets a sandwich down for himself. He's about to sit down:
Sponge Bob: Where's my ranch?
Husband: Oh, uh, I thought I asked her for a side.
Sponge Bob: Guess not. Go get me some ranch. Get me two cups.
He goes back inside without taking a bite. She continues eating. She spoke loud enough for two other people to take second glances at her. She doesn't notice. Her husband returns with three cups of ranch.
They barely speak during dinner. Her chair screeches on cement no more than 10 minutes later. Her food is gone. Her husband is just finishing the first half of his sandwich:
Sponge Bob: Come on. Let's go. I'm tired.
Husband: Oh -
He wraps his sandwich in the paper and takes it with him. She has already reached the sidewalk. He skips a few steps to catch up with her, much like a squirrel hopping across the grass holding a little nut.
I look around and notice at least three men staring after them open-mouthed. One of the wives looks at her husband looking at them and laughs.