A few days I wrote a blog post about a woman named Ali who wrote a Yelp review and called some of the restaurant staff “creatures.” As you know, I am wont to stand up for the rights of any server who I feel may have been unfairly treated so I called her out for her misbehavior. Well, this woman got wind of my post and it gave her big ol’ lady boner. She even updated her review and called herself famous. She also called me an Internet Troll Prick. (Cue me Googling a website where I can have t-shirt made that says Internet Troll Prick). She also claims that I wouldn’t allow her to leave a comment on the blog which is a complete and total lie because she did leave a comment under the nom de plume of Wendy. When I first read the comment from “Wendy,” I did not know it was from Ali. I thought it was just your average Internet Troll Prick looking for attention. That comment was left at 11:46 PM EST on Sunday night. Eleven minutes later, I received a private message that was from Ali herself and it was a cut and paste of Wendy’s words. Now I know that Wendy and Ali are the same person. Thirty-eight minutes later, Ali left the same comment on the Facebook page.
This tells me that Ali spent at least 50 minutes thinking about my blog post which is about twice as long as I spent writing it. Her private message to me was even more detailed than the original comment. In the original post, I didn’t insult Ali. I called her a creature but that was the same word she used to describe the restaurant staffer. No big deal, right? But in her message to me, she goes further and, although I did not analyze her first review line by line as she seems to think I did, I will do that with her message.
You’re a bitch alright. Yes, Yes, I am.
Roasting “fans” whose comments offend you and feeling compelled to burn them by dedicating blog posts to them. You are not a fan. You are a random Yelp reviewer. Besides, I don’t “roast” fans. I only roast customers who treat service staff poorly.
How precious. How important that must make you feel. I am precious but it does not make me feel important. My self-importance has nothing do with with Internet Troll Pricks who send me messages.
You’re so angry about being gay and working in the service industry, that your only release is attacking strangers who disagree with you. What a sad life you lead. I am not angry about being gay. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have been with my husband for 26 years and I would not consider my life to be a sad one in the slightest. And working in the service industry doesn’t make me sad either. people like you make me sad.
I’m flattered that you took so much time to analyze my comment line-by-line and dedicate a post to me. Don’t be flattered because I didn’t take that much time. I wrote that blog post while sitting on the toilet and the dump I flushed away meant more to me than you do.
It was truly moving what a cunt you really are. Especially considering how much time that took away from taming that Ramen noodle-wannabe, frizzy curly wig you swing about, most inevitably leaving bits of DNA in your customers’ food. You’re not Justin Timberlake, circa 2000 sweetheart. I don’t often use the c-word, Ali, but if the cunt fits wear it. And although my hair may be frizzy and look like ramen noodles, it’s not a wig and I didn’t take any time away from taming it to write the blog post. I mean, seriously, look at my hair. Does it look like I take time to do anything to it? You’re right about two things: I am not Justin Timberlake in 2000 and I probably do leave bits of DNA in the food of my customers.
You are a deplorable human being and I pray your tables are seated with bus loads upon bus loads of children. A deplorable human being? It takes one to know one, Ali. As for the bus loads of children, I’m actually okay with that. I’d rather deal with loads and loads of children than loads and loads of something else that land all over my face. (Speaking of loads, say hello to your little boy for me.)
Go get a real job. Too bad being an asshole doesn’t pay anything, you’re already excellent at that! I do have a real job, actually. It’s called waiting tables. And if you don’t think being an asshole pays anything, all I have to say about that is thank you for clicking my website! And you can buy my book here.
But wait, there’s more! A little while later Ali sent me another message:
Did you know that I’ve actually been asked to kill myself by your readers? By the the looks of your life, you would be more likely kill yourself. I actually live a very fulfilling and happy life with my little creatures! Ali, I never asked you to kill yourself and I never asked anyone to tell you that. Sorry that people can be so mean and heartless on the Internet. Oh, wait, you already knew that, didn’t you? Carry on with your fulfilling life…
And then she sent one more: