Perhaps This Will Explain Why I Kvetch

So, my Grandfather, he is 92 years old. Interestingly, he has ALWAYS been this cantankerous, as far as I can tell. We cannot blame the following story on age.

Anyhow, my grandparents are the sort that frequent those diners that have 1,000 items on the menu and have names like "The Nautilus" and the like. You know the sort of places of which I speak. Bland, non-offensive establishments that cater to the masses.

As of late, my grandad has switched between multiple diners for these reasons:

Left dining establishment #1 due to a 40% increase in the price of coffee, also known as 10 cent hike in price. Yes, over a DIME A CUP.

Left establishment #2 over ordering a pork chop sandwich, which was a BONE-IN pork chop sandwich (okay, yes, this IS a bit odd. You could BREAK A TOOTH here, people.) However, the real issue was that there was NOT ENOUGH SORROW ON THE PART OF THE OWNER.

Left establishment #3 as a lady patron, who eats at the same time as my grandparents, has the audacity to say hello and ask how my grandmother is doing. EVERY DAMN TIME THEY GO THERE.

So now they are returning to establishment #2, as it is under new management, who might express more sorrow. Because we all know it is ALL ABOUT THE SORROW.

This is also the same man that complained that a bratwurst he ordered had been "downsized."

And people wonder where I get all this rage from?