Naughty Children at Frenchy's Rockaway Turn Deck into Vermin Picnic Area

Yes, I thought I had seen everything.  After all, I have caught poop in my hands.  I have had a stranger come up to my table look me in the eye and calmly say, "Now I will put my hands under the table and pet your dog." Oh no you will not, crazy lady.

But today, really took the cake.

Fred and I had decided that Coach needed a lunch exposure and we thought that the deck of Frenchy's Rockaway and the sand of Clearwater Beach would be a good break for our gentle giant.  So, off we toddled to the beach for some grouper tacos.

Fred and Coach, a black goldadore in front of Frenchy's

We sat down at a table next to the wall of the building, which I liked, because it gave us a place for Coach to be out of the way.  Plus, Frenchy's, like every other restaurant near the beach, has a problem with sea birds: gulls and pigeons and sparrows are always darting in to snarf up some stray crumb.  There are signs telling you not to feed them as they become aggressive.

We sit down next to a table with a mom and dad and their three boys and little girl.  The parents are in their forties.  Old enough, certainly to know what proper restaurant behavior is.  Here is a photo of them.  You can see them just past Fred.  Rather, you can see two of the boys and the girl.

Fred, holding his menu up, three of the urchins are visible in the background.

Fred and I order our food and get Coach settled when all of a sudden a half of a french fly comes flying in under our table.  Coach leaps up and goes for it.

"Where did that fry come from?" I said as Fred snatches the fry off the deck.  Fred rolls his eyes back to the table behind him.  "Are they throwing french fries?" My voice is not especially low nor is my tone especially friendly.  I narrow my gaze at what I now consider urchins and discover that they are indeed throwing entire french fries all over the deck in hopes of attracting pigeons (vermin!! Literally, flying rats!) to their table.  The only problem is that vermin walk.  And vermin like pigeons are especially attractive to dogs like Coach.

A pigeon walks along the deck under the tables and chairs.

Coach meanwhile is under the table trying desperately to figure out if another fry is going to be flung his way or if a pigeon is going to walk by with a fry sticking out of his mouth and if maybe he might be able to pounce and get a two for one deal.  We are trying to get him to settle.  I am shooting daggers at the mom who is watching her sons throw fries all over the floor of this restaurant and not saying a word.

Coach looks out from under the chair for a pigeon.

"I can't BELIEVE this!" I say to Fred. I'm looking around for a waitress to call over so I can point them in the rabble's direction and say, "Look at what these people are doing!  Surely you don't allow customers to throw food on your floor so pigeons will gather and poop on your deck?  You must stop them."

Coach looks up at the camera.

But I think all the waitstaff was conflict phobic.  Finally, the mom had enough and said, "Stop it.  Go outside and throw them." And she gave all the fries to the oldest and the children left.

Coach gets ready for a nap under the table.

Coach went to sleep.  He was so worn out.  I was worn out and disappointed with people in general.

Naptime has been achieved.

As we were walking out of Frenchy's another woman approached me.

Coach gets to experience his first beach. Here he is standing beside Cheryl on the sand.

"Am I allowed to pet him?"

"No, I'm sorry, not when he has his coat on. He's working. But thank you very much for asking."

"No. Thank you! Thank you for all that you do."

How nice. I guess we did have a lovely lunch out.