Semi-Famous Radio Gasbags Behave Poorly In Public, Too.

So, I just received the most hilarious phone call from a friend of mine, KC, who's in San Francisco.

On Wednesday night, KC and his friend decided to get some crab, so they went to Nonna Rose Seafood in Fisherman's Wharf. They wanted one of the outside tables, waited a few minutes, and were seated.

Just after they sat down, they heard a gruff man at the table next to them complaining to his waiter. "I thought you said I'd get some privacy here," he complained. "We're very busy tonight, sir, I'm sorry," the waiter replied.

So, KC glances over at this guy. He's older, strange-looking, by himself, reading a magazine, and there's a sweet little grey-haired poodle at his feet, lapping water like crazy out of a very nice dish. The man absolutely glares back at KC.

KC leans across the table and whispers, "What an assbag," to his buddy. "Poor dog," his friend answers.

They're well into appetizers when the man calls over the server by crooking his finger. "Get the manager," he commands.

"Is something wrong?" the server says.

"Yes, I need to move my dog's water dish, but I'm not going to touch it myself."

Now, KC just about drops his fork when he hears this. He used to be a bartender, and that's got to be one of the most condescending requests he's ever heard.

The server rolls his eyes at KC and his friend, walks away, and soon the manager shows up at the man's table.

"Sir?"

"Well, how am I supposed to touch this food after touching the dog's bowl? Move it and bring him another one!" he yells. Literally yells.

At this point, KC's friend says to him, "You know, that guy looks familiar. He even sounds familiar. I think he's famous or something."

The manager actually kneels down and starts to move the bowl when the man screams out, "What are you doing!?? Make the busboy do that!!!"

KC and his friend burst out laughing at this point. They look over at the guy, and KC says it looks like he's about to bare his teeth at them.

Eventually, a poor busboy is dispatched to move the dog's bowl. (I have to add this... what kind of manager would actually send the busboy? Since you're the one allowing the customer to appoint this lowly task, move the bowl your damned self and deal with the wrath, Mr. Manager.)

The man finishes his dinner, scowls at KC's table, gets up and leaves. They immediately call their server over.

"Hey, was that someone famous? He sure was an asshole."

"Yeh," the server said. "He eats here pretty often."

"So is he someone famous? He looks familiar, kinda."

"Oh, him?" the server says. "That's Michael Savage."

No wonder Mr. Savage prefers quiet tables with no diners around him. It's tough to engage in that level of douchebaggery when you have so many witnesses. I'm still not certain why Savage needed his dog's water bowl to be moved in the first place, but who am I to stand between a jackass and misbehavior?

As soon as their dinner was over, KC was sweet enough to call me. "You're the first person I thought of," he said. "You should post that all over the internets."

Heh. Anyone want to bet the fat schmuck had food stuck in his beard?