My friends who work in hospitality will tell you, I'm the worst customer they've ever had.
I'm the guy who mortally insults the new sommelier by demanding English wine then insisting he translates the label into French. The guy who offends the chef by ordering the caviar then complaining bitterly that it tastes like fish eggs.
This evening my friend Rachele made the mistake of sitting a ginger couple near me in the restaurant.
Openly ginger. Flaunting their lifestyle choices whilst decent people like me are attempting to enjoy a meal.
Too good an opportunity to miss. It would be fair to say young Rachele was aghast and rather taken aback, by the stridency of my objection to their presence.