My own little MacGyver or, possibly, a member of the IRA

We went to the Street Fair this weekend. On the way out we decided to eat at one of our favorite restaurants on 4th Avenue. It’s in an old house and the rooms wind around out to a patio. We were seated in the “new” room in which the acoustics are awful.

When we sat down, there was already a two-top and a party of about eight. So far so good.

After we’d ordered, fifteen of the loudest people on the planet filed into our room and instantly the decibel level rose to five billion. We could no longer hear each other across from out little four-top table.

My Honey looked like his head was gonna explode, he was so frustrated. I however found it quite funny. I have no idea why, since usually I’m the one with the short fuse who hates other people. Regardless, we started to get a little silly, making exaggerated hand gestures to pass the bread, cupping our hands into megaphones and giggling away.

At one point, the Bandit came up with a complicated plan to make the other table be quiet. Keep in mind we couldn’t hear 90% of the overall plan but we did clearly ferret out the tools required to execute the plan.

The Bandit suggested we get the following: A plastic bag, a vacuum, a yellow Canadian air conditioning hose and some gasoline.

We are unsure if Canadian air conditioning hoses are different from say the ones from the United States, Albania or Zimbabwe. Also, My Honey, who is an air conditioning guy, is unsure how the Bandit would have ever known about yellow hoses, but the kid apparently knows more than we give him credit for.

I’m thinking of calling Myth Busters to see if they can take these things, put them together and make people shut up.

If it works, we’re filing it with the patent office ASAP.