Man-Rule: Don't Be Loud

Greetings and salutations, readers of The Man Rules! It's been quite some time since we caught up with you, and we apologize for that. What with all this Zika virus scare, and the zombie apocalypse, and that asteroid that hit the Earth and destroyed all life, we've been busy.

But that doesn't mean we haven't been keeping track of the ongoing attempts of many guys to become Men, and we applaud those efforts. Sadly, many guys are still falling short of that lofty goal, and we can't help but blame ourselves, what with our dearth of guidance lately. Our bad.

We're back now, though, and we've got a new Rule to help you on your journey to Manhood: Don't Be Loud.

Now, we freely admit there are times that it's good to be loud. At a football game, for example, when your team has just scored the winning touchdown. Or when you're trying to get the attention of your teenage son, who has his earbuds in as he listens to his favorite grunge / slash / metal / disco band, Booger and the Phlegmtones, at decibel levels approaching Armageddon.

But there are specific times a Man shouldn't be loud -- "specific times" being defined as "basically every other time." The importance of this Man-Rule was driven home to us this very evening, when we took our family out for a nice dinner.

Okay, "nice" may be an overstatement. It was dinner at a local Mexican restaurant, which is fairly small and hasn't, to our knowledge, earned any Michelin stars. But the food is good, and it's not too expensive, and they have sign over the register that reads "Free Margaritas Tomorrow," which always tickles our fancy.

So anyway, we go in and are seated. We notice that a large party -- approximately 20 people who look to be in their early 60s -- have claimed the center of the restaurant, with tables pushed together. That's not unusual at this restaurant, and initially it doesn't concern us, even though the group is next to us.

We place our order, and realize that although the group next to us is large, and somewhat noisy as a result, one guy's voice easily rises over the din. In fact, you probably heard him yourself, and if you were trying to sleep at the time, our apologies for not killing him.

This guy was LOUD. I mean, LOUD. He had one of those voices -- you know the kind -- that is the audio equivalent of a hornet stinging your eyeballs, and he wouldn't stop talking. He also had an annoying habit of repeating several words of his sentences, apparently in the belief that his audience couldn't hear him, possibly because they had used tortilla chips to gouge out their eardrums.

Here's an actual excerpt we heard tonight: "WHEN I WORKED ... I WORKED AT THE PLANT ... WHEN I WORKED AT THE PLANT, WE COULDN'T ... WE COULDN'T HEAR. WE COULDN'T HEAR ... WE HAD THESE EAR PROTECTORS ... THESE EAR PROTECTORS ... AND BETWEEN THEM AND THE MACHINES ... WE COULDN'T HEAR. WE'D YELL ... WE'D YELL TO TALK TO EACH OTHER."

I glanced over my shoulder as the guy was making this declamation, thinking perhaps he was trying to get the attention of someone across the restaurant, or perhaps on Mars. But no, the recipient of this audio assault was sitting right next to him. As I watched, the skin on their face was peeled away by the force of his yelling. But he didn't stop, though -- he kept hollering something about working at the plant, even as his poor victim toppled face-first into their guacamole.

My lovely and talented wife, Kristin, and I looked at each other, and started laughing. Then -- THEN -- a lady in the group, who had apparently consumed roughly 38 margaritas, began yelling even louder. And she was yelling about how she couldn't hear, because the restaurant was so loud.

You think I'm kidding. I'm not.

"NEXT TIME WE GET TOGETHER, WE NEED TO DO IT AT OUR HOUSE," she shouted at her partner, who was sitting right next to her. "I CAN'T HEAR A THING IN HERE."

I looked at Kristin, and then started glancing around the restaurant, certain that we were being pranked or punked or something.

"WHAT?" she yelled. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

And then -- and remember, we're still being completely honest with you -- I heard the guy say, "YEAH, I'VE GOT ... I'VE GOT TWO HEARING AIDS. HEARING AIDS. I DON'T THINK THEY WORK ... THEY DON'T WORK, I DON'T THINK. HEARING AIDS."

Fortunately, at that point, the irony caused my head to explode, so I didn't have to listen to them any longer.

But the fact (and the Man-Rule) remains: Don't Be Loud. It's not difficult, really -- if you feel the tendons in your neck popping out when you talk, ease back a bit. If you notice orbiting satellites being knocked off-course by the sound waves generated when you open your mouth, quieten down.

And if you're talking loudly when a world-famous blogger is at the next table over, at least make your conversation interesting, so I can get more than one post out of the deal.

(c) 2016 John Puckett

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