Evil Restaurant Man

Following up on yesterday’s post, which involved a Miserable Old Lady chastising a child in a public play place for – oh no! – playing, today, I will introduce you to someone that I bet many of you have encountered in various incarnations:   Evil Restaurant Man.

Yes, this is the guy sitting next to you and your child in a restaurant who occasionally turns to give you not-so-subtle disapproving stares when your child breaks her silence, as if you’re the worst parent ever.


Our experience with Evil Restaurant Man came when Anna was roughly one year old.  Heidi, Kelsey and I went out to dinner with Anna, who at that time was less mobile and was almost always well-behaved in public.  We used to go out as a family all the time pre-child, but, as most of you know, that gets harder and harder with a little one. So, one Saturday night, we decided to treat ourselves to a fun evening out and we wanted Anna to come along.

We deliberately selected a casual restaurant with a family atmosphere.  The place is large and usually crowded, filled with the animated dialogue of its many patrons.  We thought this atmosphere would be a good one for us and our little girl.

Apparently, not everyone thought so.  Seated next to us in the middle of a large dining room were a group of much older people who eyed us with apprehension the moment we sat down.  Things started out ok, though – Anna was quiet and we ordered a fruit plate appetizer to keep her occupied until our meals arrived.  There were crayons on a paper place mat, and although she didn’t really know what to do with them, Anna enjoyed playing with them.

And she showed it, by making a squeaky squealing noise and laughing.

May 2009, Anna, less than one year old

Her noise wasn’t any louder than the din of conversations around us.  But I could feel Evil Restaurant Man’s eyes on me, as he was sitting very close to my chair.  We continued talking and eating.  The same thing happened several times throughout the meal.  Nobody else looked at us strangely.  A few people at neighboring tables smiled at Anna.  People always smile at her and seem to enjoy watching her when we’re out.

Not these people.  We could tell they were talking about us as we ate.  It became uncomfortable enough that we hurried through the last of the meal so we could leave. I was frustrated that Evil Restaurant Man had such power over us – or, rather, that we let him have that power.

I think it was just that we were so surprised by these people’s overt disapproval when, in our experience, usually cute little ones like Anna make people happy, not angry.  Our waiter was fine with it and even remarked that Anna was well-behaved.

As we stood to leave, the muttering of his group got louder.  I made out something that Evil Restaurant Man said about controlling a child.  One of the ladies then looked directly at Heidi and said something like, “You can tell there’s a problem with the parents when a child acts like that.”  I looked at the whole group incredulously, and said “She’s just a baby!!”  I think Heidi said it too. I’m sure my thoughts were clearly reflected on my face. How miserable do you have to be to be that rude to someone you don’t even know?!

Even some nearby diners seemed shocked by the rudeness of these people.  One couple said to us, “I thought she was fine,” and smiled at Anna. I thanked them, relieved.  Then, as we were walking out, I heard another person say something not-so-nice to describe Evil Restaurant Man.

We couldn’t stop talking about it all the way home and even discussed it with friends via Facebook.  Everyone seemed universally appalled that these people were so rude to us.  Either they were just miserable (hmm, do they know Miserable Old Lady?), or they had never had kids, or it was so long ago that they forgot how kids are.

They make noise. It’s not a big deal.  If she had been screaming and crying, one of us would have left with her to go outside and pace around until she calmed down, so as not to be disruptive. If she’d been older and was running around, we’d simply leave.

But that wasn’t the case.  She was merely making baby noises. She was having a good time and showed a little excitement. Who cares?   It would be one thing if we had picked a fancy, five-star place where you dress formally and the entrees are $50 each. Yes, a small child would be out of place there. The fact that no parent can really “control” such things is what led us to select this particular restaurant in the first place. It’s not like we have no sensitivity toward other people.

I’m just putting this out there because I bet all of you have seen Evil Restaurant Man.  Perhaps you have had an experience like ours.  (If so, please comment!)  Perhaps his ire wasn’t directed at you, but you felt sorry for his victims.  Perhaps you even agreed with Evil Restaurant Man because you, too, were frustrated with kids in a restaurant.

I can admit that I’ve had that frustration in years past; for example, I always found wild kids irritating in the grocery store.  But I have NEVER treated their parents rudely. And now that I am a parent too, I get it. I’ve been that person that people look at. It’s not a nice feeling. I also get that “control” of kids is easier said than done.

Sometimes there’s no preemptive strike. Sometimes you can only react.  Kids aren’t like the TV, which you can easily control with a remote. We may wish they were sometimes, but that’s not reality.

So, to you parents, I say: keep going out.  We work hard and deserve to have fun too, and we shouldn’t always be stopped by lack of childcare. Heck, I usually enjoy bringing Anna places with me!  You should be able to be together as a family if you want to. And to you non-parents, I say:  I know what it’s like to be you.  And yes, sometimes there are kids going through a stage where they are too wild to handle being in public, or whose parents are oblivious or don’t care. That is certainly annoying.

Just trust me that most of us DO care, that we are trying hard to teach our kids good behavior, and that controlling a very young child is harder than you may think.  Try it sometime. It’s tough.  If you’re ever at a restaurant and this happens to you, unless it’s an extreme, wanton case of child craziness, please try to have some compassion. Please don’t be Evil Restaurant Man.