The Luv Doc: F*ck, Marry, Kill

Dear Luv Doc,

On Friday me and some friends had an after-work happy hour at a brewery. I admit that sometimes we can be a little bit loud, but that's not uncommon in places where adults are drinking. Anyways, somebody decided we should play Fuck/Marry/Kill, which (no surprise) caused a lot of loud laughter and a bit of shouting. During the middle of all of this a very upset woman came up to me (I was at the end of the table) and told us to watch our language because there were kids nearby. It's true there were kids nearby our table, but only because their parents were letting them run around unsupervised. The table with all the families (her table) was on the other side of the taproom. Anyways, I told everyone at the table we should try to keep it down a little. We did, until one of my co-workers said, "Fuuuudge me!" really loudly and everyone at the table started laughing again. The woman got up and complained to one of the employees while pointing at our table. He shrugged his shoulders and looked like he said something like, "What am I supposed to do about it?" Then she glared at us for about 10 minutes until her whole table got up and left. As they were walking out, she said very loudly to the employee, "We won't be back," and then glared at us. Our table cheered, but I don't think anyone else even realized what was going on. When I told my roommate about it, he said that we were the bad guys in this scenario. How? Were we supposed to act like we were in a church instead of a brewery because there were kids running amok? He was reading your column about donuts and he suggested we ask you.

– The Loud Table

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Obviously there is a lot going on here, so let's get the obvious stuff out of the way first. Look, I get it. Parents drink. In fact, I'm pretty sure parenting was the reason alcohol was invented in the first place. That's probably going to come as a bit of a surprise to certain fratty-type dudes who consider booze socially sanctioned Rohypnol, but hear me out: Yes, alcohol tends to loosen inhibitions and inhibit critical thinking, which can, and often does, end up in unwanted pregnancies that are sometimes brought to term – like Marjorie Taylor Greene and Ted Cruz – but alcohol also does a delightful job of smoothing down the rough edges and making life more bearable – like those unfortunate instances when your toddlers turn into the sugar-crazed spawn of Satan and start wilding innocent beer drinkers who were just smart enough not to drink the trash-can Thunderfuck at the Sigma Chi mixer. "Aren't they adorable? Honey ... get me another pint of that 14.7% ABV IPA. The one that tastes like grapefruit rind, Copenhagen, and chicory but hits like a six-pack of Olde English."

Call me a hero if you want to, but I'm going to say it: Yes, parents should be allowed to drink. They should also be allowed to bring kids along with them to drinking establishments foolish enough to encourage it. Let me be clear: If you're annoyed by the presence of children at a brewery that installed a playscape, that's on you. Either go to another brewery or drink harder so the kids are not as annoying. That's what parents do. You think you're better than them?

That said, in establishments where alcohol is the primary product purveyed, you should also feel free to engage in disturbingly lurid adult conversation – exactly the type of blue-hued vernacular that is regularly employed in games like Fuck, Marry, Kill. Why? Because you're in an adult drinking establishment, which is pretty much the only place people are actually expected to cuss other than golf courses and the bleachers at Little League games because ... seriously ... did you see that fucking call?

But what about the children? The little demons crawling all over that disease-coated brewpub playscape? Who is looking out for them? Well, clearly no one, and that's precisely why they will grow up to be such amazing, self-sufficient parents, regardless of whether their church-lady mom chastises you about your salty language. That kind of makes you heroes, except for the dickish mob mentality behavior of your group, which was, at best, a mild form of bullying. So, before you start back-slapping each other for being right, maybe consider that you were right in the wrong way. At the very least you could have invited her family to come play Fuck, Marry, Kill.