By Charlie Warner
Argus Editor
From the time I was quite young, my parents always tried to impress on me the virtues of having good manners. "Please" and "thank you" were mainstays at the Warner house, and Iíve tried to do the same with my daughter.

I try very hard to remember to treat people as politely as possible, try not to interrupt, open and/or hold the door for persons, and not cut in front of someone, especially at the checkout line (unless Iím in a very big hurry).

Not too long ago, however, I ease dropped on a conversation at a local restaurant, that although was probably not the right thing to do, as far as good manners are concerned, proved to be quite entertaining.

It was noon, and I was dining by myself, enjoying the special of the day, when two elderly couples came in. Iím pretty sure they were retired farmers. Both of the men were attired in dress shirts and new (Sunday go to meeting) bib overalls, while the ladies were wearing the type of checked dresses my grandmothers Warner and Larson used to wear.

I really didnít mean to listen in on their conversation, but it was kind of hard not to. I think the many years of riding on cabless tractors may have impaired the menís hearing. They both spoke quite loudly, and so did the two women.

The four were trying to figure out what to order. Like most smalltown restaurants, this one featured a hot-beef special. You know, a beef sandwich with a couple of scoops of mashed potatoes, and a generous portion of gravy poured over.

Because there were several "meats of the day," some major decisions had to be made. Would it be hot beef, or hot pork? Turkey was another choice, so maybe hot turkey?

The waitress arrived and they all asked for coffee and a little more time to make their decision. One would have thought they were considering the purchase of a new car or a home, the way they reviewed their choices.

The four finally all arrived on what types of "hot (you fill in the blank)" they wanted, and the waitress went scurrying back to the kitchen to get their orders.

"I wonder what other types of hot sandwiches there are?" said one gray-haired lady.

Silence overtook the booth for a moment. Then one of the bib overall-clad men shouted "How about hot Swiss?" The other three gave an approving nod.

"What about hot meatloaf?" asked the other gray-haired lady. They all felt that was reasonable.

I could tell that lady was on a roll. Before anyone else could come up another alternative, she asked, "what about hot meatballs? You could cut them in half, so theyíd stay in the sandwich."

This was really getting entertaining. I got caught up in their game and started racking my brains. "Hot ham, hot ham!" I thought to myself. That would work. I tried to push that thought across the booth to the four persons, now completely caught up in the competition. But it was to no avail.

"If you can have hot turkey, what about hot chicken?" the other gentleman chimed in, looking as if he had just one the lottery.

"Iíve never heard of hot chicken. I donít know it that one counts," the lady sitting next to him said. (I figured they must have been married by the exchange that occurred next.)

"Well, if you can have hot turkey, why not hot chicken," her husband said defensively. "Thereís not a lot of difference between turkey and chicken," he added rather defiantly.

The other couple had to agree that there really wasnít a lot of difference between those two meats.

I was sitting on the edge of my seat, wondering what in the world they were going to come up with next. Hot salmon? Hot tuna? If they were Scandinavian, possibly hot lutefisk? I could just about hear the wheels spinning in their heads, as they were attempting to come up with one more hot______ to win the little game they had created, which had turned into a highly competitive event.

Unfortunately, the waitress came with their meals, which broke the tension and ended their hot (fill in the blank) game.

The most amazing thing about my ease dropping escapade was when the waitress started handing out their meals she said, "hereís your hot beef, hot beef, hot beef and hot beef."

I guess hot beef was on the top of the menu, so thatís what the four elderly diners ordered!

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