Quiet, please

 Peggy and her friend like to go to a certain bagel "shoppe" in our corner of the world every so often to have a bagel and a cuppa java and to gab awhile. They eat their bagel and sip at their mud and someone comes around from behind the counter to top off their mugs. It's a nice place with good chow and jitter juice, and they somehow managed to stay afloat during the pandemic, which is not easy for any kind of food place. Before I start ranting, I might as well tell you, they have the best bagels in town at Bagel Bistro.

No fault of the good people there, but the most awful thing happened, and I have to say that, short of someone dumping a tureen of boiling grits right in your business, there is nothing worse in a restaurant than some loudmouth plopping his heavy hindquarters in a chair and holding court at length.

Now, we are not among those couples who dine out all the time, especially now. I have eaten in some really fine restaurants over the years, and some that everything thinks were fine but which made me long for a cheeseburger from Gino's, and some moderately-priced joints and a greasy spoon or two, along the way. You know, the kind of place where you're just picking up your burger when the swinging door leading to the kitchen where the culinary magic is taking place, and the "chef" sticks his head into the dining room, a head with one of those paper army-style hats at a jaunty angle. And he hollers, gracefully, "Becky Sue! Pick uuuuuuuup!"

And, what do all these eateries share? This: no matter the type of food, or the prices, or the social standing of your fellow chowhounds, there will be a time soon enough when one or more LOUDMOUTHS perch at a table, booth, or counter to tie on the feedbag and begin chattering away loudly enough for their conversation to be heard by everyone else.

I've often asked what sort of thing could lead a person to such awful behavior.

Some say that some people just have no manners and don't give a rat's asterisk about anyone else and their efforts to enjoy a meal in graceful peace and quiet with friends or family.

Some people generously estimate that perhaps the loudspeaker is a person dealing with hearing loss.

I've had people surmise that the loud one was raised in a ball-bearing factory where normal conversation was impossible.

And there is always the possibility that the McLoudsons are just attention seekers, and what better way is there to have a roomful of folks look at you than to carry on a high-volume colloquy about the time Aunt Pearl got lost on the beach and all the kids had to run around hollering her name, or the need to keep your air pressure up - but not TOO high! - in your automobile tires, or what Elvis would be doing today IF he were still with us.

I've come to realize, these are the people who speak out loud during funeral services, take a full cart into the TEN ITEMS OR FEWER line at the supermarket, and call up radio talk shows to opine with their catch-all estimation of any and all situations: "That's a load of garbage!"

Here are the notable people I figure would act this way in a beanery:  Any Kardashian, Kanye West, Ellen DeGeneres, Kathy Griffin, Trevor Noah, any of the Los Angeles Dodgers, and Demi Lovato.

I have resorted to exotic measure such as mean-mugging the yakety yakkers and even commenting out loud as if I were part of the convo, to no avail. Throwing chicken bones and empty salad bowls is considered bad form, so that's out.

Peggy and her friend, always gracious, went outside to finish their chat at a picnic table. Nice solution.