There is a brewpub in our neighborhood that has decent pub fare (unlike that other brewpub with the shitty pub fare) great organic ales, and....it is overrun with kids.
You heard me. Kids. This is the brewpub where every couple brings their 5 or 6 offspring dressed in Baby Gap to run around like wild animals. It is like the dog park, but with kids. This Kid Bar even has a play area. I have observed a stroller-ramming mommy quaffing ale whilst her little boogery, wailing spawn is out of sight, harassing other people in the Kid Bar. The Kid Bar also provides sippy cups for these raging toddlers on the loose. It is, my friends, a great travesty.
It is difficult enough to tolerate kids in their natural environment (cribs, playgrounds...the street) but seeing them all running willy-nilly about the bar is just sick and wrong.
Saturday night, VBM and I walked down to the Kid Bar for a pint. It would seem we had forgotten that the Kid Bar had replaced the monkey bars, so we had to belly up amongst untold numbers of ketchuppy toddlers and their buzzed Volvo-driving parents.
We enjoyed some decent wings (superfried and oozing with Frank's butter sauce, though they only squandered two measly carrots on us) and some nachos. The VBM loves nachos. I do not know why. The good thing about the nachos was the salsa--very reminiscent of the salsa from a restaurant in Minneapolis that I used to love--the Mud Pie. Word has it the Mud Pie is now a sports bar, but hell, it can't be worse than this Kid Bar we've got out here. So this salsa is really fresh and sparkly and pureed goodness with plenty of cilantro and jalapeno and lime juice. The beers were damn fine, except it was hard to taste anything with all the caterwauling going on.
While we were waiting for our table and being astonished by the sheer volume of rug rats in attendance, VBM shared an idea with me.
"You could make it so there are less kids in here" he said, "by hiring a homeless person to kidnap a kid from here. You know, bring the kid back right away. Maybe do it a few different times. That would solve this problem in a hurry."
8 comments:
Excellent idea. That's what they get for letting their kids run amuck. Let me know if I can help...
I like the Russell St BBQ solution. Perhaps a sign saying: only one spawn per customer or something.
maybe they could hire the homeless guy who sat on the step in front of the door at work friday night who, in between sucking on his cigarette, kept coughing up these serious sputum balls and spitting them all over the sidewalk. he could scare away parents just by sitting at the bar and spitting his loogies on the floor where the kids could eat them.
...so does this mean that if i have four kids auntie zetta won't watch them for two weeks while i go to a spa in new mexico to rejuvenate?
Do we need to revisit eugenics? Perhaps not. I see where the B in VBM comes from. Being the brother of VBM and the son of VBM's mom, I can't begrudge him his evil genius.
kids make my skin crawl.... why?
i was once one, 20-some-odd years ago. and i'm such a generally caring person. i have plants. i have cats. i have a ball-n-chain with messy brown hair and stains on every t-shirt he owns. i am happy seeing things grow.
aren't we all supposed to want our own little germ-factory, nose-picking, booger-eating, pant-shitting, shin-kicking, spawn?
Kaen: NICE!
You know, there must be some rule within the Oregon Booze & Cigarette Commission's lexicon of laws that forbids children from the said Hooch Den.
Just feed some of the kids some beer, might help them grow. That'll get kids thrown out!
aw!
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