When you wait tables you have to get used to dealing with annoying, idiotic stupid-ass bitches and douche bags because you are surrounded by these people constantly. Maybe it’s not nice of me to talk about my co-workers that way, but it’s true. And then on top of that I also have to deal with the retards who come into the place to eat. This bag of bones came in yesterday with her husband the fossil and fell into my station. She perused the menu for about a hundred fucking years like she thought it had the answer to the Mid-East peace crisis in it. She points her bony ass finger at me to come over to her. I plaster my smile on my face and say, “Can I answer any questions for you about the menu?” She does in fact have a question because all old people have a question. Like do you have hot tea? Or can you turn down the music? Or what should I do to keep from tripping over my titties? She wants to know about the Pad Thai entree. You should know I work at a restaurant that although not Asian, serves several Asian dishes, Pad Thai being one of them. “So the Pad Thai. I don’t understand. Do you just order it from another restaurant?” I look at her. “What?” She repeats, “When people order the Pad Thai or the Red Curry, do you have it delivered it from somewhere else?” Is she fucking kidding me? No bitch they make it in the kitchen. We have a kitchen. With ingredients and recipes and people who don’t speak English. We make the food here, lady, don’t make me cunt-punch you. What does she think? Like when someone orders a burger we call McDonalds and when someone orders spaghetti we just call The Olive Garden? What a dumb ass question. Meanwhile her Fossil Husband is just sitting there probably taking a crap in pants. She ordered the Pad Thai once she was assured that it comes from our kitchen. She eventually ate two bites of it and said how full she was and made me wrap it up. Old people always get full after two bites and make me wrap up the rest. Their stomachs must shrink as they get older and if that is the case this lady must have a stomach the size of a pea, she was so ancient. They left me a decent tip and we talked about the economy before they left. I was bored and there was nothing on television except C-Span or CNN so I actually chatted her up for a while. Her husband didn’t say much. He might have been dead, not sure. They shuffled out the door, the lady holding on to her bag of Pad Thai and the husband holding onto his bag of bones.
January 14, 2009