If you handle the playlist for a restaurant, may I humbly request that you get rid of the ballads?

I just don’t think I can handle another experience like the one I had yesterday.

I think that restaurant playlists should be monitored. General pop and dance tunes can be tuned out – they become a part of the atmosphere. A background beat. Ballads are different. They’re personal, to the point, and pointed directly at the listener. It’s just not restaurant material. And I have proof.

You see, I was dining with the wife, and excused myself to go to the powder room. Now I don’t want to make this too graphic, but I needed to – sit down. There, I said it. We all sit down from time to time, right? It’s a part of the human experience. Good, I’m glad that we’ve cleared that up.

It was before the main dinner hour, so the restaurant wasn’t very busy. I was alone in the restroom. Sitting. Everything was fine, quiet and contemplative. Until Neil Diamond started singing to me.

September Morn, to be exact. A ballad of love, seemingly directed to me while I was… sitting. I suppose the mood was just right; all alone, quiet. The room was dimly lit and rather romantic – for a public restroom.

Stay for just a while
Stay and let me look at you

Really, Neil, not right now. I’m busy. I’m… Sitting.

We’ve travelled half-way around the world
To find ourselves again.

But, here? Did it have to be here? Neil, please – maybe later.

We danced until the night became a brand new day
Two lovers playing scenes from some romantic play

At that point, I was no longer able to… Sit. It was just too much. I had to gather my things together and just go.

This is why ballads in restaurants are wrong. It should have never been. Don’t feel bad, Neil, after all, it wasn’t you – it was me. I just couldn’t handle a ballad in the restroom. I just couldn’t finish what we started.

I suppose September mornings will always make me feel this way…