So we went out for a little family dinner tonight at a chain restaurant with free kids meal coupons. Tis the season and all that. And for the most part, it was a lovely dinner. The kids were well-behaved and even the baby ate like a champ. Everything was tasty, the service was great. Not much to complain about at all.

Unless you’re me, that is.

Here’s the deal. They sat us at a table next to 5 women, clearly co-workers. Four of them were massive. Seriously. If there’s a halfway point drawn on the floor between adjoining tables, they totally destroyed it. I literally could not sit on the side of table that was next to theirs. Even if I could have somehow slithered into my seat without pulling it out, I would have had to such in my gut the entire me. For reals.

That, of course, has become so commonplace these days that in and of itself it would not have warranted writing about. It was the fifth woman, who seemed older than the others, and who was the only one at the table not at least 100 pounds overweight.

It started because her scarf was thrown on one of the chairs for our table. When the hostess brought us over, she politely asked the woman if it was her scarf. The woman glared at her and said “yes” in that challenging tone that suggested she wasn’t going to move it. She did, though, and glared at us as we sat down. Seriously. She got hostile because she had to move her scarf.

Did I mention that all five women were wearing reindeer antlers on their heads? And I won’t even get into some of the horrible things the old skinny one started saying about the infant at a nearby table who was a little loud. Just chattering excitedly and such. No shrieking, no screaming, no crying. Just being a kid. And boy did it piss her off.

If you’re going to go out for margaritas with your chunky-ass coworkers in reindeer antlers, don’t you think you would be leaving the humbug at home?