Television Doesn't Lie

The scene unfolded last night at this Upper West Side French Roast cafe. Brad and I were seated next to an older couple that very well may have been Jerry Seinfeld's parents - well, only if Jerry's mom dyed her long hair black and wore it up high on her head in a red scrunchy. And then, as God smiled upon us, the "Don't Hurt Me" guys were seated on our other side. I'll begin with Jerry's parents (please apply your best New York accent)...

Mom: This creme brulee is just custard.
Dad: Well what did you think it would be?
Mom: In French, it means "burnt cream."
Dad: That's what this is.
Mom: I guess so.
Dad: Have you heard of YouTube?
Mom: YouTube?
Dad: Yeah - it's where you go to watch things.
Mom: What do you watch?
Dad: You watch videos! I could go watch Paul McCartney sing. And anyone can put a video there. I could put my own videos there. I just don't know how, because it's all that nerdy computer stuff.
Mom: Where does it come from?
Dad: You mean who owns it?
Mom: Yeah, who owns it?
Dad: The television people.
Mom: Oh?
Dad: Yeah, it's that Rupert Murdoch and Fox - they own it. They own everything. (Note: This is how misinformation is spread)
Mom: Mmmm, okay. That makes sense. Oh, here's the bill. We need to pay this.
Dad: I can't see a thing.
Mom: Jesus, it's dark out here. How are you supposed to be able to see to pay this thing?
Dad: I can't read this.
Mom: Get your glasses out.
Dad: My glasses aren't gonna help me. I hate these things...
Mom: They're blue.
Dad: I put 'em away, I take 'em out, I can't stand it.
Mom: Maybe we can get a light. (To the waiter) Excuse me, sir, can we get a light? We can't read the bill. Maybe you have a flashlight or something.
Waiter: Um, no problem. I'll have them print the bill darker - I'll see what we can do.
(Waiter returns with a darker bill and candlelight)
Dad: This is better, now I can finally see.
Mom: Oh yeah, that's much better. Wait, how do we add a tip? Do you think we can add the tip? Do we have to tell him what we want to put on it?
Dad: Let me see...
Mom: He was a very good server...
Dad: Okay, here, you sign it.
Mom: Okay, oh yeah, this is much better. (Returns the bill to Dad)
Dad: You signed right through it! Now it's not even legible!
Mom: What do you mean?
Dad: He's not gonna get any tip, you signed right through it. You damaged it! No one can read this. I can't read this.

Things pretty much wrapped up at this point, just in time for us to drop in on the "Don't Hurt Me" duo, who flaunted a variety of wardrobe malfunctions, including:

1) Black Reebok sneakers (2 offenses)
2) Sleeveless tshirt (1 offense)
3) A rip in one's khaki pant crotch that revealed his kibbles and bits - mainly, the bits (1 offense)

So it's surprising they brought so much attention to themselves with active conversation...

Guido 1: Look at this f***ing espresso! You see the size of this thing? 6 bucks!
Guido 2: (Points to menu) A f***ing $17 beer. How big is that f***king thing?
Guido 1: It better be the size of my f***ing head!
Guido 2: (To waiter, who has come over) I'll have a hot chocolate. (????)
Guido 1: I'll get a real coffee.
Guido 2: Who you gonna vote for president?
Guido 1: Barrack HUSSEIN Obama.
Guido 2: (Lowering voice) John McCain is the most normal guy in America (interesting assertion) - if he can't win this thing...I don't know.
Guido 1: I just don't know if I can bring myself NOT to vote for Obama.
Guido 2: I hear ya - I just don't know. I don't know who I'm voting for.
(Waiter arrives with drinks)
Guido 1: (Gesturing towards hot chocolate) Why's his drink so big?! Can I get mine that big?
Guido 2: What you got in the bag?
Guido 1: I went to Zabar's (please note: this is a very expensive specialty grocery store - see my Yelp review). Look what I got (Takes out a peach)
Guido 2: Nice.

At this point, we'd wrapped up our dinner, including dessert, and I could no longer be exposed to Guido 1's bits. So we left. But it was at that moment that I realized a scary truth - both Seinfeld and Saturday Night Live are actually documentaries.