I would love to be an anthropologist, except then I would have to study people-the majority of which I can't stand anyhow. Also, most of my scientific "research" consists of eavesdropping on customer's dim conversations and then mocking them silently. Cold, hard facts-that's what I'm all about.
Whatever. Making out so feverishly in a booth that you don't even notice when you're food comes makes you a toolbag. And puts you at risk for getting a heart-shaped balloon shoved down your throat.
Also, when you come into a restaurant at 12:30am on Valentine's Day that generally closes at one, try to keep your exclamation of "DAY-UM" down when the waitress (possibly named Ensley) brings you your $40 (dinner for TWO) check and you've now made her stay until 1:30 am. Get out before I kick your DAY-UM! ass. Oh, and thanks so much for that five dollar tip!
All in all, my Valentine's consisted of 10 long hours on my feet, watching couples make kissy faces and having only Ron, the 35 year old Jewish comedian bartender to talk to.
On one hand, Valentine's Day can only get better. On the other hand, I couldn't get approved for all the credit cards it would take for retail therapy to repress these emotions.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Retail Therapy: Commence!
Posted by Haughty by Nature at 10:56 PM
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2 comments:
heeeheee, I worked at the bar on v-day (or D-Day whichever fits) Why in the world anyone would want to step foot inside a restaurant on that day is beside me, and then decide to get angry because the service is slow while I'm sweating my ass off. Really!
ps. Glad to hear the big city hasn't changed your outlook on life Ms. Gilchrist.
seriously. what more do they want from you. you are there on
1)a saturday night
2)valentine's day, and
3)giving them alcohol.
i mean really!
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