After parking, my group walks over to the loud atmosphere of sobering students saying the first incoherent thing that comes to mind. I here many amusing things and share a couple quiet laughs at my table. Then a group of five guys come in and sit down. For the first time I notice the skinny long-haired person sitting in the corner in his own state of euphoria. He has not yet made himself acknowledged to the dining community, yet he shifts in his chair paying close attention to the new arrivals. So I’m going to take a look at this new figure. He looks the part of the town bum, but who is this person. The plain dirty cloths hang from his semi-emaciated body. Time is ripped back to speed as society’s castaway yells, “Who has crack?” The previously loud atmosphere drops into quiet and almost stands still until the moments of confusion ends and the one closest to him says, “None of us.” Taken as an insult the man starts taunting to provoke a violent response. Being the ones not under the use of illicit drugs, they notice the cops and try to first diffuse the situation, and then they try to not ignore the belligerent behavior.
After noticing the scene, the waitress comes over and speaks to the person. She brings to his knowledge that they called his roommate, who we find out later is an employee, and that there is a table full of cops within eyesight. Thinking the situation was terminated, I continued to eat thinking to myself how many drinks did I had. Why couldn’t I just have a quiet meal? The scruffy addict was not done. Instead he now started to shift chairs as if he was going to pick one up and attack the innocent drunks. Then pouncing to the next table he starts flicking the sugar packets counting in a creative way. I look to my sister and I proceed to the kitchen to get a check and some boxes. They apologize and start getting some boxes then another waitress comes in and said the cops were arresting him and taking him away. I walk back to my seat now disheveled to finish my meal. Somewhat relieved he’ll get help, I get up to leave. As I’m leaving I feel sorry for our nation and its sweeping drug problem among the impressionable youth. These addicts have no future because they live for the day’s high and not the future in which we all have to live.

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Oldest known version of this page was edited on 2005-09-08 22:51:34 by PeterGraham []
Peter Graham

Seven, four, ten he flicks different colored sugar packets on the coffee-stained table and then starts picking up chairs and threatening the innocent drunks just trying to eat some food. I glance over to the table of cops and see them talking, not even paying attention to the escalating situation. But wait, why am I here? Let's rewind. Errr…My stomach contracts and strains as it remembers I only ate one meal during the day. That was over 12 hours ago at the birthday party I rejoined an hour ago. I find my sister and her now drunk roommate and say goodbye to the humorous friends. They had finished puking tonight and had drunk three waters, so they were thinking about starting over again. I remember hours ago they were shooting flaming arrows so I decide to leave. Wait a minute that was a little too much rewinding, so I’m on Atherton and I decide to stop at Eat’n Park.

After parking, my group walks over to the loud atmosphere of sobering students saying the first incoherent thing that comes to mind. I here many amusing things and share a couple quiet laughs at my table. Then a group of five guys come in and sit down. For the first time I notice the skinny long-haired person sitting in the corner in his own state of euphoria. He has not yet made himself acknowledged to the dining community, yet he shifts in his chair paying close attention to the new arrivals. So I’m going to take a look at this new figure. He looks the part of the town bum, but who is this person. The plain dirty cloths hang from his semi-emaciated body. Time is ripped back to speed as society’s castaway yells, “Who has crack?” The previously loud atmosphere drops into quiet and almost stands still until the moments of confusion ends and the one closest to him says, “None of us.” Taken as an insult the man starts taunting to provoke a violent response. Being the ones not under the use of illicit drugs, they notice the cops and try to first diffuse the situation, and then they try to not ignore the belligerent behavior.

After noticing the scene, the waitress comes over and speaks to the person. She brings to his knowledge that they called his roommate, who we find out later is an employee, and that there is a table full of cops within eyesight. Thinking the situation was terminated, I continued to eat thinking to myself how many drinks did I had. Why couldn’t I just have a quiet meal? The scruffy addict was not done. Instead he now started to shift chairs as if he was going to pick one up and attack the innocent drunks. Then pouncing to the next table he starts flicking the sugar packets counting in a creative way. I look to my sister and I proceed to the kitchen to get a check and some boxes. They apologize and start getting some boxes then another waitress comes in and said the cops were arresting him and taking him away. I walk back to my seat now disheveled to finish my meal. Somewhat relieved he’ll get help, I get up to leave. As I’m leaving I feel sorry for our nation and its sweeping drug problem among the impressionable youth. These addicts have no future because they live for the day’s high and not the future in which we all have to live.