Excuse Me, Brittany, Could You Pass the Breadsticks?

And on a lighter note - Yesterday, we went out to dinner.  A last hoorah before we begin our self-imposed Five Weeks to Financial Betterification.  We do this.  We find ridiculous reasons to justify eating out: buying a new car, getting a good report card, starting a diet, or in this case, cutting ourselves off from wreckless spending.  But all of that will change with our Five Weeks to Financial Betterification plan (details soon to follow).  Anyway, we went to the Olive Garden to celebrate the ending of The Never-Ending Pasta Bowl (ah, the irony).  We no sooner got seated in the restaurant than we noticed the staff rearranging numerous tables in our room.  Great, a large party will be joining us.  And not just any old large party, we were lucky enough to get a party of teens on their way to the homecoming dance.  Oh, the joy.  They got seated and reseated and changed seats one more time.  All the while their tacky expensive dresses just skimming our table.  Who knew the Madonna look was making a come back?  The Olive Garden is not a small restaurant but apparently with teenagers their is no such thing as personal space unless its their own.  It started off well enough but then the volume level raised.  We had to shout to each other to be heard and of course, the moment we shout is the moment they pause making us look like "the loud talkers."  Then another table of classmates arrived and the inter-table conversations began.  Wait, it gets better.  Then came the pictures.  Sometime in the near future there will be pictures, most likely all over facebook, and I will be in the background in the numerous stages of pasta eating.  Now I know what Lindsey Lohan feels like . . . no wait . . . I was sober.  Now I know what Paris Hilton feels like.  I was living the Lady Ga Ga song "Paparazzi".  All in all a perfectly good evening was turned into a rushed gobbling of angel hair, eye rolling and trying to look unaware of the camera without looking stupid.  My hubby came up with a great idea.  There should be a database.  It should list all of the local high school activities where the children dress up and pretend to be adults.  Then we would know not to go out on those days.  They could even link it to the restaurant websites.  Easy access.  So next time you see me, you may be surprised.  Who knows where I'll pop up in a photo or what kind of pasta I'll be eating.  Thank God we're cutting ourselves off.  Why couldn't we have done it one day sooner?