a man and a woman sit at a two top of mine one night. i greet them and they tell me they need some time to look over the menu. i give them a few minutes and go back…they still need more time. fine. few minutes later i go back. The woman has decided…after staring at the menu for like 15 minutes…that she is just going to have some vegetables. Really?? It took you that long to decide on vegetables. moron. i then turn to the man who folds up his menu and looks up at me all happy-like. he says…”I’ll have Le Sur Peas with some fried chicken.” i look at him like WTF?? WTF are Le Sur Peas first of all….he tells me they are English peas. I say, “well, we don’t have peas on the menu and we don’t have fried chicken either.” He looks at me like i just shit on his dog or something. Why are you so stupid to come out and stare at a menu and then try to order what we DON’T have?!?!? WTF is wrong with people?? STAY HOME YOU RETARD!!!
I once took a credit card from a young woman at a table with 2 other men. Before I could even flinch as to move away from this table of 3 personas, one of the men shouted at me,
“Hey ,don’t you dare take her card!!”
Sorry, I replied, she gave it up first, I don’t have time to sit and wait for you guys to argue and dissect who has the biggest ego at the table, so I’m going to run her card and then I’ll bring it back and she can sign it and you all can continue on with your evening.
Not 30 seconds later, after I swiped the woman’s card, the man who had yelled at me just a minute prior decided he needed a little one on one time with me. The gentlemen of discussion, ran to me almost out of breath, but not entirely, unfortunately for me.
“You can’t take her card, bro! That’s not right!!”
Excuse me?? I replied.
“Look, I don’t know what country you’re from… but, this is America and I’m from America!! And in America, the man pays for the bill! Always! The woman never pays the bill. She cannot.
At this time, I had to pause and wait and see if this guy really knew what he just said….
Obviously, my perfect english and blond hair and blue eyes obviously made his assume I was nigerian, perhaps?
After I swiped his finger off of my chest, that was poking a hole in my sternum, I contemplated hitting him upside the head with the water pitcher near my right hand. Instead I got my rebuttal with my words.
Actually, I’m from Chicago. I’m pretty sure…yeah…pretty sure last time I checked, that Chicago, which is a city in Illinois, it’s in the midwest next to these places named Iowa, Michigan, Wisconsin, you may have heard of them, I’m not sure where YOU’RE exactly from. Anyway actually, funny story, in this place that some refer to as ‘Chicago’…the women can pay for the bill too! Wow! I know, crazy story, right!?? Who would have thought it possible. But, it’s true. Now listen, here’s the deal. I’m going to give your friend her card back and you’re going to step away right now or I’ll have security take you outside or if you’d like we can settle this right now, if you really have a problem with me and you’d like to take this further….
Suffice to say, he declined my offer of a more intimate conversation. He obviously had a few brain cells firing to understand sarcasm. Maybe. Maybe not.
i normally wouldn’t be such an all out sarcastic A-hole to a customer, but his idiocy just made it necessary.
Why is it that I can use a can of pineapple juice to make a busser do anything I want. For a can of pineapple juice a busser would pour drinks for me all night, clean puke off the bar, and give me a ride home on his shoulders. Servers are a little more expensive. They will do anything for a red bull. #Makesnosense
Today, I started my shift as a cop, patrolling hollywood blvd on my bike. Everywhere I went, gangs, gangs of youths yelled stuff out at me, like “Bike twat” “Pig on wheels”. ” Thats a girls bike you muppet f*ck” and “Go on pussy, Do a wheelie.”.. I felt like paul blart the mall cop. Greeaaatttttt!
Yet again the Office Party Bitches (OPB) are planning another crappy office party.
For them OPB means: Office Party Bashers.
I hate those idiots! They make everyone play a part in all the “fun”. More like commiting to f*ck.
“Oh dude, bring the cake, okay?” they say. “No, I`d rather bring the shit, okay?” my answer.
“Bring the cherry suckers, man!” they say. “Since when does your cock taste like cherries?”
It goes on and on, everyday. Then comes the dreaded mother f*cker party.
My friends and me go into the other rooms to f*ck the wet stripperes we hired.
The OPB come inand ruin it all. It usually happens when I`m blasting somebody`s virginity.
Yeah that`s my story.
Hope you assholes liked it!