As we're sitting and eating, a frummie couple walks in. Penguin suit and all. The hashgocha is posted in the window and is hard to miss and if you missed it, why would you even go in. They look around and decide to sit down. Then they start grilling the waiter on the origins of the establishment's chicken. Even after being told it's Rubashkin, and after wasting the waiter's time with their moronic questions, they just left without eating.
The guy looked familiar. I wouldn't be surprised if they're psycho BTs. Before you go into a restaurant, you check the hashgocha. If you trust the hashgocha, sit down, shut up, and eat. If you don't trust the hashgocha, what are you even doing there?! And if you don't trust the hashgocha, who says the staff aren't gonna lie to you about where their meat comes from. And if you're an idiot who takes upon himself every chumra he hears about, what are you even doing in a meat restaurant, or any kind of restaurant.