Huh? What Did You Say?

I'm either getting older, or the stereo systems in restaurants around Indianapolis have broken volume dials.

I'm guessing it's NOT the stereos.

For the second time in a week, my family and I have sat down at a table, only to have the music on the overhead speaker drown out our conversation. Even my 7-year-old said tonight, "What is the DEAL?" I mean, not that there's anything wrong with hearing Britney Spears baby-talk her way through "Oops, I Did it Again," but I don't need to feel the vibration of every inaudible moan ringing in my ear.

Sadly, I politely asked our waiter if he could turn it down, "just a hair."

A hair would not have been enough. A hair would have only reduced the noise to bar-level, like the days when I would go with a friend, then stand there and pretend to read lips because I couldn't hear a thing she was saying. I figured if I could get him to turn the volume down even a nanometer, it would be better than having to write down my order to ensure it would come back accurate. I figured I would take what I could get.

To my surprise, our waiter said, "I sure will. I was thinking it was a little loud myself." And that's from the mouth of a kid who didn't even look twenty. For a brief moment, I didn't feel so old.

Moment over.