Most of the country is in a deep freeze and everyone is colder than a witch’s tit.(Incidentally, a witch’s tit is pretty darn cold. If you don’t believe me, you should check out the director’s cut of The Wizard of Oz where we see the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda, the Good Witch of the North shoot icicles from the breasts in a war over the ruby slippers. Ultimately, the scene was cut, but you can still see it here.) Anyhoo, as we servers make our way through a sea of black coats and scarves that are piled in our station because customers think that the table next to them was placed there to hold their winter belongs, there is one joke we all keep hearing over and over again. It’s not a funny joke, nor is it original. We hear it all day, every day and by the tenth time, we can no longer muster up the energy to even pretend that it’s even remotely entertaining:
The customer enters the restaurant after braving the Arctic winds outside. As they stomp their snowy boots onto the floor and shake the snow off their hats with reckless abandon, the eagerly look around the restaurant to see who will be the lucky one to hear their joke. Hostess, busser or server? It matters not to them as long as someone gets to her their attempt at humor. Once they catch eyes with the poor unsuspecting soul, it happens. The customer says something like, “Man, it sure is cold outside.” They then turn their attention to the back part of the restaurant or the area that one would normally go to be seated outside. And then it happens.
“Can we sit on the patio?”
And here is my response to your joke:
Stop it. It’s not funny. Grow the fuck up. Try a new joke. We’re tired of you. The patio is fucking closed.