"I'm, like, the nicest person there is."

So tonight The Pirate (the friend formerly known as LBB) and I were having a nice and leisurely late dinner. The place was packed, so it was great for people watching (which we are oft apt to do). We were chatting and eating and catching up as the occupants of the table [not so] next to us decided to depart. As the woman walked by my chair, she cattily said, in a singsong voice, "Later biii-ttt-ccchhh-es."


Um, what?!? Was she talking to us? Did we deserve that? No no no!

I mean, as part of our people watching, we may or may not have made comments, but not one of them audible. And, what we said? Really, it wasn't mean. At all. We may have made a comment regarding their appetizer choice. We didn't say anything rude, just that the place we were dining was not necessarily the place to embark on a shellfish adventure (though it was absolutely without a doubt the place to embark on the portabella chevre salad adventure).

The Pirate weighs in:

"If you order mussels at a pizza restaurant, I'm going to make fun of you. It doesn't matter that said pizza restaurant is rated a respectable 21 by Zagat, and it doesn't matter that the "maroon bible" even refers to said mussels as "can't miss." Trust me ... you can miss them. Because, LBH, we've all read Kitchen Confidential. We know the rules. And, we especially know that even if we are not eating at a pizza restaurant, we should still be careful about what day of the week we consume shellfish...and as I recall, Wednesday would most likely not be a preferable day (the best day being Thursday). And, if last night was Valentine's Day...and mussels were presumably purchased in expectation of a crowd on said holiday...perhaps it stands to reason that tonight's mussels were the leftovers from last night's dinner. So, don't call me a bitch...because, I'm not. I just value my health...and I like to avoid ERs...and I think my knowledge of food is superior to about 95% of the population. So there."

We also may or may not have commented on the size of the woman's diamond. All we said was that it looked bigger than it actually was (which, if you think about it, is a compliment).

But, really? We're two of the nicest, unabashedly harmless people in the world. Who's the mean girl here? Do you need to start calling us Caty (or Catty. Haha) and Gretchen?

And, if she did hear us, why was she listening? Stupid eavesdropper.