Phone Rage

         A few weeks ago my husband and I went out for breakfast. He has had a very mild stroke that seems to have affected his sense of humor. Going out to eat is one thing he still enjoys and I do too.
         We sat at a table by the window with a view of the fall foliage. The restaurant was in a hotel. There were few customers since the time was about 9:30. I was sitting back to back with a somewhat overweight man. After we ordered, we were enjoying the quiet atmosphere when I heard the familiar beep-beep of a cell phone.
         "Hello," the man behind me said. He made no attempt to lower his voice. People across the room looked up as he spoke.
         "Where are you?...When will you get here?... don't owe you any more money...I have a contract...I'll talk to your supervsor...The swing and paddle boat shouldn't change the price. I have a contract. His voice had begun to rise. Frank and I looked at each other. I thought, 'I wish he would do this in his hotel room.' Our food arrived.
         There was silence for a moment. Then I heard the beeps of the phone being dialed. Shortly he launched into another conversation disputing the claim of additional charges. I finally figured out that he was talking to the moving company, first the driver and then the office, about his furniture. He didn't think he should be charged for a few more items that were not included in the original estimate. After all,it was just a yard swing and a paddle boat!
         A man who was sitting at the back of the room yelled, "Shut that up. Take that outside. This is a restaurant, not a phone booth." I froze mid-bite trying to decide whether to laugh or run.
         Frank watched the whole spectacle, but said nothing. The man at the back of the room came to the table of the man on the phone and screamed again,"Get out. We're here to eat."
         He continued for several sentences. It seemed like several minutes. He finally returned to his chair. The man on the phone got up and waddled to the lobby. He was average height but he must have weighed in excess of three hundred and fifty pounds. His face was flushed.
         "Call the police. This man is threatening me. Call the police!" He then returned to his chair and continued his conversation. "Some nut schitzing out. My blood pressure has already been high this morning...I don't owe you any more money...How could a swing and a paddle boat raise the price You already gave me a price." He repeated the whole thing in two other conversations to his boss and his wife.
         A power company line crew left. They were trying not to laugh. I guess they couldn't take it anymore.
         The man on the phone left. His kids were still sitting at the table. The waitress spoke to them and said she was sorry. One of the boys said matter-of-factly, "It's not your fault. He better shut up. His blood pressure is up."
         Soon the manager asked the man who had complained to come to the lobby where she attempted to restore order.
         Frank looked at me with the familiar twitch at the corner of his mouth that said a laugh was waiting. "I know about Road Rage, but that's the first case of Phone Rage I've ever seen."
         Now I did laugh, not so much at the ridiculous scene that had just taken place, but because my husband was laughing, too. When we left the fat man was still complaining to the desk clerk, and I had dire forebodings about Phone Rage sweeping the country.