After almost three years of anonymity, today is the day that many people are finally going to put a face to the name of The Bitchy Waiter and it’s all thanks to a six foot four inch hunka hunka burnin’ love named Dr. Phil McGraw. I am on his show today. It’s a little weird that people might see me at work tomorrow and be scared of me but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make for my main squeeze, Dr. Phil. Maybe you came to this blog after you saw me on his show and you liked the pearls of wisdom that dripped from my mouth as I was trying to edumacate this woman:
To you newcomers, I say “welcome.” (And why does she say “processed chicken” like it’s a bad thing? Colonel Sanders is rolling over in his grave of chicken beaks, partially hydrogenated poultry ass and breading every time she says that.) Many of you come to The Bitchy Waiter every day because you clearly enjoy wasting the time of your employer and you would rather read this than do whatever it is you are supposed to be doing on your computer. To you, I say “Welcome back. And get back to work.”
Before anyone comments about what I look like (I’m looking at you, Anonymous), please allow me to beat you to that punch. It has already been brought to my attention that I look like one or more of the following: Carrot Top, Justin Guarini, Kenny G., Sammy Hagar, Larry Fine, Gene Wilder, Sideshow Bob and the love child of Charro and a Q-Tip. If you have any new dopelgängers for me, feel free to post them.
So yes, I am a waiter, and maybe a little bit of a bitchy one, but I can assure you that I am simply saying what most servers are thinking: I hate your kids in my station, I don’t want to give you separate checks and I don’t give a rat’s ass if you say you’re allergic to mushrooms when it’s obvious that you just don’t like them. I will put a lemon in your Diet Coke because that is God’s will and it doesn’t bother me one bit that the fruit is dirtier than the bottoms of Britney Spears’s feet after she takes a leak at a gas station. Also, if you are about to post a comment that says something to the effect of, “if you don’t like waiting tables, then why don’t you go to college and get a real job,” that too has already been covered here and here, so I’m good.
I am glad you are here and I hope you will bookmark this page and come back every now and again. I try to write in a way so that everyone will relate to what I am talking about, not just those who work or have worked in the restaurant industry. My posts usually have something to do with food or waiting tables but sometimes I will throw a curve ball and write something that will make you step back and think about your own life in a new way. Or at least that’s what I try to do. I think this post about my Grandma will do that for you and if it doesn’t you must be some kind of a non-feeling robot/alien/Nicole Kidman creature.
Being on the Dr. Phil show was a great experience and if nothing else, maybe it will get a few more people to:
- Follow me on Twitter
- Like me on Facebook
- Vote for me to be on a Times Square billboard
- Buy priceless jewelry that will be passed on to their children
- Just say how much they hate/love me
The above links should give you a pretty good idea of my needy yet lovable personality. Thank you for visiting and tomorrow it will be back to the bitching. (But seriously, what is that lady’s issue with processed chicken?)