Like I said, this was our first foray. I’ve been to my share of arcades cum restaurants – GameWorks instantly comes to mind – and enjoyed them. But nothing prepared me for the societal train wreck we found at Chuck E. Cheese. Utter chaos is to be expected, especially in a place that caters to children and harried parents, and I expect soft drink-fueled, token-clutching kids to be less than mannerly and aware of what is happening around them. I do, however, expect some parents to at least be cognizant of where their spawn are or how they might be behaving. I can expect that, right? One doesn’t abdicate responsibility in this type of environment, right? Mrs. Big Dubya and I kept a watchful eye on the kids primarily so they wouldn’t get trampled or bullied out of the way, but also to make sure neither one of them got a cigar in the eye.

But, enough about the kids. Can we talk about the parents? Back in August of 2007 I wrote about the wildly inappropriately dressed “young women” we encountered at Disneyland. Well, the people we ran into Saturday made most of those look like beaming debutantes with smiling young beaus on their arms. Holy extensions, bad tats and muffin tops, Batman. Case in point and one that is emblazoned in my memory like any other traumatic event: I saw an ample bosomed woman – maybe 30-35, but whose smoking had given her the more wizened look of a 50-55-year-old – wearing a tank tee (mind you, it was cold outside…fuckin’ cold) that barely contained those breastesses. On her right breast, Tweety-Bird. On her left…wait for it…Stewie. Stewie! From Family Guy. Only not an entire Stewie, though there was ample canvas. No, just Stewie’s head floating on a mound of flesh. And, honestly, I had enough of a look at these tattoos to come to the conclusions that a) they were not very well done at all; b) may have looked better before gravity, but far from showing-off worthy and c) Stewie? I don’t think even Seth has him tattooed anywhere, although I could be wrong. The men/dads? Some would have been better off with putting an ‘X’ (or two) in front of the ‘L’ on the tags in their shirts or learning how a belt works – plumber’s crack is not an accessory it’s a faux pas – but all-in-all not too bad.

Now, before some of you slam me as some sort of elitist, let me remind you that we were at a Chuck E. Cheese – a restaurant for all intents and purposes that targets kids – not a dive or club or in someone’s double-wide. It’s a place loaded with skee-ball lanes, video games and miniature carousels. Not stripper poles, mirror balls and VIP rooms. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a modicum of decency, do you?