Dinner with the G-'rents

Tonight my roommates and I met their former roommates (or roommates in law) in Oklahoma City for dinner. My g-pa is a dentist and sometimes travels to the city (from far western OK) for continuing ed classes, which I cannot begin to imagine since he just learned how to program their VCR last year (actually, did anyone learn that or did we just skip over to DVDs?). We met them at Steak & Ale, a fine dining establishment with which all of you in OK are surely familiar. By fine dining establishment I of course mean it sucks. No offense, but this state doesn't do too well in what it thinks is the upscale dining department. I've only been to a couple of restaurants in the city that even remotely come close to what the rest of the country considers classy and I think I was always paying, so I didn't enjoy myself much, but who the hell cares, there's chicken fried steak here. Anyway, my grandparents are great in many, many ways. However, they're also a bit, well, here are some highlights from the evening:

-Roommate#1 was running late due to a meeting and called me so that I could read him the ENTIRE menu and we could order for him. G-pa did not like this and kept yelling fake menu items into my phone. You have not lived until you've had to scream "8oz prime rib for $16.99" twelve times into your cell with an angry room full of diners. Roomful?

-G-pa is wearing a diamond encrusted gold pinky ring. I am now convinced he is connected. He is a Mason, after all.

-Brother bee-spot casually mentions that our harried server has forgotten to bring the bread. "Tell him when he comes back," says G-pa. "No, I'll just wait till he gets to it, he looks busy," says BB. "You'd have been dead if you were a Jew in Germany* with that attitude." WHAT?!

-My roommate and his mother are trying to think of an old schoolmate's name. Begins with an H... "Heather?" says G-ma. "Helen?" says roommate#1. "Hitler?*" yells out G-pa.

-Said harried server was trying his best, he really was. G-ma asks him if they're shorthanded. He says that a lot of people quit this week. She says, maybe it's your disposition.

-G-pa insisted on giving the server a wad of cash (I think he's the type that doesn't trust banks - he used to give my brother and I hundreds of dollars in rolled quarters) at the beginning of the meal to prevent, oh hell, Dad, from paying the tab. Unfortunately, he underestimated and had to throw a bit more in, which became a bit awkward. Especially when G-ma had to loudly whisper to the poor, embattled server to make sure he was tipped enough.

-Needless to say, Brother bee-spot and I stopped off at the liquor store on the way home.

*My g-pa was certainly not in WWII. In fact, I think he was born in the mid 30's, which puts him in his early adolescence at best. I have no idea what his deal is, although, G-ma said he wanted The Dirty Dozen for his b-day.