Trudy's

Yesterday, me and a friend of mine went to the popular Trudy's on 30th and Guadalupe. We went for dinner there, and thought that we'd have a nice, quiet dinner, especially since it was the middle of the week. Boy, were we wrong.
The path to Trudy's didn't prepare us for it. We walked along 32nd till Duval, and from there, switched to 30th till we hit Guadalupe. It was utterly quiet along the way, and we could even hear some distant crickets chirping in the background. A few fireflies flew about, little flecks of gold among the velvety dark night sky. The thin, reedy Waller creek made a few gurgles, but it was very, very quiet. Even the firefighters' place along the way was quiet -- no emergency on a Tuesday night.
As we approached Trudy's, though, we could hear a faint buzzing in the distance, like bees in a flowerbed. The buzzing turned out to be people's chatter. When we entered the restaurant, the cacophony hit hit us like a physical blast. I almost staggered back under the assault of the sound.
People were talking, laughing, yelling, chattering away, even crying. It was a scene worthy of a painting (maybe I will paint it!). As we waited for a table, four young people came in -- two boys, two girls. They looked drunk, their faces flushed, probably with drink. Their ha-ha-ha's echoed through the whole of Trudy's. Finally, after waiting for about ten minutes (and getting more and more uncomfortable with the quartet alongside us), the ruddy-cheeked, curly-haired guy who told us to wait came around and led us to our seats.
Inside, it was slightly quieter. Notice the stress on the word slightly. The din existed here, too....but to a slightly lesser degree. A gaggle of girls, probably younger than us, sat in a large group, laughing like hyenas gone wild. The drinks kept flowing at their table, our waiter rushing with multiple glasses of martini -- probably Trudy's famous Mexican Martini -- to their table. Every now and then there would be relative silence as one of them would tell something, and then the whole table would explode as everyone around found it hysterically funny. My friend and I rolled our eyes, and got on with our meal.
Behind us, there was a group of three boys. Every now and then, one of them would break out into a loud swear, and punch the other two on their arms. A minute later, they would all laugh together. It was rather unnerving, for they looked aggressive enough (and drunk enough) to really break out into an all-out fight. Luckily we left before things could get too physical.
The waiters rushed around trying to quell the increasingly demanding crowd. Our waiter, a plump man in a pin-striped shirt and khaki shorts, looked harried to death, but still maintained a cheerful smile on his face. A young lady, another waitress, swept her ponytail behind her, wiped her forehead once, and then went on with her task of serving to a huge party of nearly twelve people. I doubt anyone noticed her tired expression. There was another man with a belt around his waist, the type you use when you've pulled a muscle or something. He didn't let that deter him, as he cleaned the tables with remarkable dexterity. It was an interesting scene -- the people, all in high spirits, laughing and joking, and the tired waiters trying to keep it that way for them.
Hmm. Maybe I should try Mozart's next.....