The Patrons

- People that walk into a restaurant and go " We're in a hurry, can you help?! "

There are several ways I would handle this situation... Here they are....

1. If I was a host, I would simply reply....

" Sure, I can help, there's a McDonalds right down the street, now get the FUCK out of my restaurant "

2. If I was a waiter, I would reply....

" I don't know, we don't serve reasoning power on the menu, which it seems you're sorely lacking.... You see, this is a restaurant... Emphasis on " Rest "... A place where you come in, to kick up your feet, relax and enjoy a meal.... You are looking for " Fast Food " ....

Seriously.... What compels a person, who is in a rush to choose a restaurant as a feasible place to get in and get out within 20 minutes?! Oh, I know, it's the same person who walks into a bank at 3 p.m. on any given Friday, and as soon as he stands at the back of the line to get to a teller, starts complaining and bitching and moaning.... It's the same person who goes out to eat on a Friday night at 6 p.m. and expects their NOT to be a wait for a table... It's the fuckface who goes Christmas shopping on Black Friday, complete with Christmas Tree sweater and earrings then complains about the fucking crowds.... And it's the same fucking assholes that come into a movie 15 minutes after it starts, locates their asshole friends, then sits down and proceeds to loudly ask " what's happened so far " .... Seriously?! Where the fuck do these people come from?!

- People that go to Mcdonalds drive thru and proceed to tell the person taking their order " Can you give me a minute ? "

To which, I'd simply reply

" Sure, I mean it's not like we're McDonalds or anything, you know a fast food company you've probably frequented since you were a small child... A company that hasn't really subtracted anything from it's menu in the past 20 years, A company that markets all new products relentlessly on TV, Radio and Print.... You know, it's not like we're McDonalds or anything, a company that caters to it's lazy fuck patrons by assigning numbers to meals, just so you can memorize your favorite meals number, that way you cut out the extra .2 seconds it would take to go " I want the two cheeseburger value meal " .... No, it's not like we're THAT company at all, so take your time... I'll deal with the people behind you who are getting angrier and angrier by each increasing second, wondering why the fuck someone takes this long to place a fucking order at McDonalds when
THEY already know that they want, because.... Well..... They're not fucking morons.... So continue to peruse our giant menu board, which, if I might point out hasn't changed in the past 10 years and I'll continue to sit here and wait for your highness to place your royal fucking order "


- People that go someplace to eat and when the waitress approaches the table to take their order, they reply back " What do you suggest?! "....

Really?!

What do I suggest?!

I suggest you use your magical deducing powers to peruse our menu and decide what the fuck you want....

I'd suggest you order some fucking food... How's that for you?!

I suggest you don't engage me in meaningless conversation in a vain attempt to butter me up, thinking I'm somehow going to bring you extra condiments or maybe I'll overlook the fact you left me dick for a tip....

I suggest you order your own fucking food, because regardless of the fact that I work at a restaurant 40 plus hours a week and go home to a shitty relationship and have to pay bills off ridiculously shitty tips from pretentious assholes like you, I know how looks can be decieving, but I'm not Jesus H. Christ incarnate... I do not know what food agrees with you or what food allergies you might have... If I knew what allergies you have, I'd suggest you order the food that contains said allergen, so that way I can go home early, after my last customer of the fucking night... you.... dies "


- People that walk into a restaurant and immediately start looking around, never making eye contact with the host.... They go from looking at the lounge area with the bar to the dining area.... They then have a look of confusion come across their face.... That's when, after the 6th time of welcoming them to the restaurant, the host will be acknowledged as actually being a live, animated human... They will then ask the host " I'm supposed to be meeting a few people here * cranes neck to look around one more time * but I don't see them, can I go take a better look around?! "

At which point, if I were a host, I would flash a bright smile, and respond chipperly....

" Of course you may.................not.............. For, you see, we live in the 21st century.... A century filled with wonderful and amazing achievements in technology... Among these wonderful and amazing achievements, is a little invention that, I guess has flown under the radar.... It's " The Little Engine That Could " , if you will, for the electronic inventions of the 21st century.... A magical little device known as the cell phone.... With said, cell phone, you could have called your friends before you entered the restaurant to find out where they were located at, or because you're obviously way too important to place a phone call you could actually text them, to inquire about their position in the restaurant before you stepped foot inside, this would be done, of course, in between you accepting the " pretentious asshole of the year " award and being notified of your " overinflated sense of self importance " nomination... but seeing as how you couldn't even do the smallest and less taxing task of checking before you stepped foot in this restaurant, of where your friends were, I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny your request to look around for them... And I'm actually doing you a favor, because without a doubt, you'll go wandering aimlessly about my restaurant, almost in a zombie-like fashion, bumping into waiters and waitresses with hands full of plates, or blocking whole aisles, so you can stop and crane your neck about and lethargically move from side to side in almost a dream like state of awareness, as you try to locate your party, when there is a waiter or waitress with their hands full of a heavy tray full of food, waiting for you to move out of the way... And who's to say that we wouldn't have a zombie hunter among our patrons, who might see your state of zombie like mannerisms and mistake you for a real life zombie and put a bullet in your head.... We wouldn't want that, now would we?! No... So, I'm actually doing you a favor.... A. I'm introducing you to this wonderful and magical invention known as..... the cellphone and B. I'm saving you from being mistaken as a zombie and getting shot, because of your zombie like wandering about.... "

Then smile as you walk them back out the door, of which they entered....

- My next item that bothers me actually goes along with the one above....

People that go into a restaurant, look around for their party, do not find said party, then sit at the host stand and wait for their party.... After awhile, they will make some statement like " Well, I guess I got the wrong restaurant ".... To which, they will accompany said statement with a giggle or a laugh, and a host or hostess, will have to return complimentary laughter, but inside their head, they will be thinking if debraining you, would actually have any real world implications, as you are a brainless fucking moron....

These people make my life when they come in.... Because, they have to be, singlehandedly, one of the most retarded life forms in existence.... How the fuck, do you get the wrong restaurant.... It's not like the same name chain restaurants, are located anywhere near each other.... Surely not by more than 5 miles.... So, how exactly do you go to the wrong one?! Oh, because like the rest of the general restaurant going public, you're a fucking idiot....

Ok, well that explains a lot....

It's either that or you have some dickhead fucking friends who don't like you and told you the wrong restaurant, in the hopes you'd show up, sit around, get frustrated that none of them showed up, then leave.... And when you call to find out where they really are, they won't answer, they'll let it go to voicemail or won't return your text, then when you see them at work the next day, they'll claim they left their phone somewhere or the battery was dead....

But really, you're the big winner, you friendless waste of oxygen... For as you see, all you really missed out on was a self high five convention, where phrases like " am i right?! " and " Bro " and " Oh My GAWD " were bandied about in between giggles, guffaws and self important " me Me ME!!!!! " shouting ......