Pet Peeves

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Mozambique

By Mark D. Crantz
By Mark D. Crantz

Mozambique has been making news of late. According to Indy reports, Mozambique has been granted temporary approval to reactivate downstairs dining after its recent completion of the rooftop “al fresco” area. The new expansion is drawing a lot of ink from residents in support, as well as, comments from residents opposed. Those opposed want to send Mozambique back to Portugal. Portugal established the restaurant in 1505. The original restaurant is located in eastern Africa and is the size of a country. Laguna’s Mozambique has requested city planning to permanently allow them to expand to the size of a country, too.

Parking seems to be the problem. With every seat added, there must be corresponding parking availability. I’ve witnessed this problem firsthand. My daughter and grandkids came to visit and I made a reservation for six under the name “Stevens.” I know readers that my name is Crantz, so what gives, you ask? My late brother, who wrote for Jay Leno, insisted the family use Stevens instead of Crantz because there might be somebody in the restaurant who he would prefer not to see. Pretty paranoid, don’t you think? Not really. There are quite a few people out there who don’t get the Crantz sense of humor and get mad instead. Sounds crazy? No, the crazy part was when my brother picked a burial spot that didn’t have a headstone, so the one positioned closest read “Stevens,” just in case a visitor came, whom he didn’t want to see. I’ll always love him for giving us this last joke.

Sorry readers, I got bushwhacked by memories. When we arrived at Mozambique, the hostess asked me how many in the party were adults and how many were children. I said, “There are three adults and three children. We’ll need two booster seats and one high chair. I don’t know what the children need.” Without even a trace of a smile, the hostess replied, “Fine. Did you B.Y.O.?” Caught on my heels from another failed joke, I mumbled, “Bring your own what?” “Oh, don’t you know,” said the waitress, “Each adult must bring their own parking space. Children under 16 don’t need to BYO.” Missing a beat or two and still fuming over my flat-lined joke, I thought wait, maybe she got the joke, but she couldn’t show it through all the Botox. Geez, how will I ever know? “Sir are you listening or are you just another neighbor from the ‘Quiet Zone’ who insists on not speaking up?” inquired the hostess. “Yes, yes. We’re from the neighborhood. Ah, we walked over. We have no car,” I responded. The hostess sighed. “Sorry, that won’t work with the Coastal Commission. You can dine here only if you bring a space. Or you can allow us to cut up your driver’s license. Or you can make available your garage for two other diners. What’s it going to be?”

Was she kidding? Or was this her attempt at humor and now I didn’t get the joke. Now I wish I had Botox to hide my confusion. I asked her, “Do we need a parking space, if we dine on the rooftop, instead?” “Oh, no,” replied the hostess. “You are required to bring your own landing strip, or surrender your pilot’s license, or provide airport parking for commensurate Laguna diners.”

 

Mark is a transplant to Laguna from Chicago. He occasionally writes the guest column “Pet Peeves.” His recently deceased Border Collie, Pokey, is his muse and ghostwriter.

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