Saturday, August 14, 2004

The Pitiful

I go around, going to people's tables and telling them how's your dinner and asking them if I can take in plates. I'm set in the old section, which is small, and I've been hitting the tables hard, wanting to get a tip, and wanting the customers to have a nice meal.

I come to the 6-seater table. There's only a man and a small kid sitting there, and I ask them how's the meal so far? and the man says fine. I then take some plates and walk over to the little girl, and ask her are you done with this plate? and she says yes and I take it. The man says, when you're done taking those dishes back, and I say yah? and he says, you can zip up your fly, it's embarrassing.

The guy says it in this way which is very mean, pompous. The customer comes first, I think, as my reaction to what he says is filtering through my brain, and all I do is say okay, and walk away, not changing the look on my face at all.

Inside I'm pissed. I did not deserve to be treated like that. As I'm over at my busing cart, emptying the dishes with breakneck speed, I think, what an asshole. He could've done it in a much nicer way. I was kind to him. What did I do to him for him to have to treat me like I was utter and complete shit?

While I'm standing there I zip up my fly, and I think of walking over to the man and saying, you don't need the be embarrassed anymore you fucking asshole I zipped it up. I hope you won't be embarrased anymore, because I wouldn't want that to happen you pompous fucker sir. I don't do it. Customer comes first, I think. And I think, if he wants to treat me like shit, let him.


I think, there's plenty of people that're assholes like that in the world. And eventually, he'll get what's coming to him.

I mean, doesn't the guy get it? I was working hard, working my ass off, had been working since 11 AM, and I was going to work all the way to 10 PM. When you're busy doing your job, you don't stop to think, Oh, why, holy shit, my fly's open. When you're working, you work.

And what about this guy? Doesn't he realize I'm only doing my job. I sensed he had been annoyed by my presence, by me being kind, and doing my job. And doesn't this asshole realize that he probably was once in the same exact position I am, and probably is not too far from it either at this point, from the looks of it.

He could've been so much damn kinder about the whole fucking thing. He could've said, "Hey, your zipper's open, you know." And I could've flaunted some belation, a little surprise, and said, "Thanks. Sorry about that."

But no, here's a fucker that apparently finds it fun to pick the shit off my bones.

I thought, I'm better than him. I didn't come back up there. I didn't do anything back, I didn't give him some fucking shit to chew on like he gave me, all I said was yeah and went away. And one day I'll be so much better than that fucker, the way I'm working. One day I'm going to be up there somewhere where this fucking asshole would've never imagined. . .and he'll still be shoveling shit at whatever job he has.

I thought, it's people like that that really just make your day sour and bad.

I didn't give that fucker the time of my day. What comes around goes around, asshole. One day you'll be doing something, and then someone will give you a slap to the face like you gave me in the rudest way--just like you did.

I did not go back to his table. When he left and I could've said have a nice night, I didn't.

A little later, I was still hitting the tables as hard, and when I bused I bused hard as I could, I was pissed. I needed to get it out somehow. I kept thinking the same thoughts, and I bused as fast as I've ever.

After I bus a few tables, I go to this middle table in my section, where there's six or so old people.

I've already asked them how's the meal so I don't ask them that. I come in and I take this plate this old man has, and say excuse my reach.

He says, don't come over here anymore and reach over at me here. We'll set the plates aside for you to pick up. There's obvious annoyance in his voice, and it's like he's talking to some pile of rocks, as if I'm not even a person.

This pisses me off even more, but the customer comes first, so all I do is say, sorry, I'm sorry, sorry. I walk away and I don't fucking touch that table anymore, either.

I hate customers that treat you like shit like that. You just try to do your job, and they give you hell about it, as if you're not even a person, just some thing for them to beat up and be all mad at.

When those people left, I could've told them have a nice night too, but I didn't. Fuck if they deserved a nice night. What they deserved was better manners, and to not treat people like shit.
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