“Is this going to be forever?”

A friend recently posted on Facebook about an encounter she had with a guest while this person was dining in her section.

I’ll paraphrase, because I’m too lazy to click over and copy verbatim.

“So, what are you going to do with real life?”

Real life? What is this? The Matrix? Because I see spoons fucking everywhere. Last I checked my colleagues and I put very real food in front of your very fat and very real faces every day.

That fourth soda you’re drinking is fucking real.

That plate of Adult Onset Diabetes is fucking real.

Don’t tell me what I’m doing isn’t real life because it’s putting a roof over my head and keeping me from doing coke off a tranny hooker’s cock for money.

Your condescension is thicker than the plaque in your arteries.

I speak for every server in the industry when I say I’d love nothing more than to use  my college degree for something other than kissing your ass in hopes you’ll help me make rent every month.

Enjoy your well done steak. It’s burned because you ordered it well done.

Yes I’ll get it fixed right away.

Twats.

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The entrepreneurial spirit makes my pants tight.

We’re all here for a reason.

Some of us write books or play music. Some choose to tell jokes or review movies.

For whatever reason we have blogs, the motive is the same:

Shameless self-promotion.

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