Tonight, I thought I would try something different. My wife loves dessert, so why not just go some place, any place, and just eat the sweets? It would be soo cool. We went to Outback Steakhouse. I had the Towering Chocolate Cake and she had the Chocolate Thunder Down Under.

We live in Memphis, the city of "It's Hard Out There For a Pimp" and The Firm fame. (I coupled in the last one to show some diversity.) My wife is from North Memphis, so I have an appreciation for ghetto tendencies. After all, it's within us all (white folks included).

To give further context, we just came from seeing the movie, Norbit, Eddie Murphy's 21st Century version of Coming to America. It was pure ignorance: funny, over the top, but endearing. Eddie Murphy, for better or worse. But I digress. The point is that the movie was stereotypically ghetto - pimps and a huffing, puffing, big, black sista character named Rasputia. My wife and I know several Rasputias.

In any event, we're in Outback. Across the aisle is a party of four, all friends, maybe even co-workers, but definitely loud. It's hard not to overhear their laughter and conversation. I wasn't really bothered by that - at first. I mean, I'm all for having a good time and enjoying the company of friends.

Then one of them, a sista (did I mention the table was full of my people? Yes, I claim them, even the ones who won't act right in public) said the word "nigga," not once, but twice over the course of one aspect of their conversation. I wasn't mad at the fact that she’d said "nigga" (correct spelling and usage, but that's another column), but I was mad at the fact that the whole section of the restaurant heard her say it. She was just that loud.

I cringed. I imagine the people at the other table across from them — a black couple and a white couple having dinner — were probably cringing on the inside, too. It was such an awkward moment. I wished that sista had used her "inside" voice.

That got me to thinking.

Across the country, city after city bans cigarette smoking in restaurants and public places because it's not only dangerous, the smoke also tends to sully your dining experience. Who wants to smell like smoke?

In the same vein, who wants their dining experience sullied by boisterous people whose voices waft over the entire section, simply choking out other people's conversation? Why not draft a law mandating that they shut the hell up? Or better yet, since this is a free country, draft a law that forces them to use their inside voice, or else.

Think of the funds the state could raise for childhood education, even for more courses on etiquette.