It's not like I can use the excuse that we caring New Yorkers bestow on midwesterners who don't know any better. For example, “My aunt Somebody stood in line for 45 minutes for the Times Square Olive Garden. But, she's from Some Town, Some Midwestern state, so she just didn't realize that X, the over priced but chic restaurant just had its soft opening in the village.”
Aren't we great with our condescending sympathy for anyone we feel superior to (read: rest of country, even LA–especially LA). But no one will step up to bat for me if I say something like “So I'm sure you saw it's Shrimpfest night at Red Lobster. You know, I always go in ready to snarf all that shrimp, but I can never say no to the lobster.” It would only elicit blank stares and zero sympathy.
Still, it was my friend Dan (not me) that had one of his birthday parties here. A party that sent a vegetarian friend into vomitous fits after the accidental ingestion of a biscuit that had hidden chunks of meat in it. Didn't he know that if you want to introduce meat you've got to start small–don't go for the good stuff like Red Lobster, such rich flavors need to be worked up to.