The Dangerous Restaurant

I was having dinner at a rather expensive restaurant the other night when a man I'd never met before threatened to kill me. He was a distinguished-looking fellow, dressed in a dark suit. I was walking by some appetizing desserts when he approached me, accused me in a harsh voice of bothering him repeatedly, cursed me and warned that he would kill me if I bothered him again. Then, briskly, he returned to his table. As I went back to my own table in a different part of the restaurant, I mentioned the episode to the maître d', who promised to keep an eye on the guy.

The unpleasant encounter put me in a strange state of mind. I couldn't help noticing, as I looked around the room, that people were coming in, they were being given tables without any questions being asked by anybody, and within about five seconds of sitting down, they were being issued with weapons that could easily be applied with lethal effect against nearby diners. Wielded with speed, even a fork can kill, not to mention a knife.

After a few moments, though, I calmed down. I felt relatively safe. I finished my meal and even enjoyed it.

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