If you've known me or read my blogs for any significant period of time, you are already aware that I am a truly flawed individual who could probably benefit greatly from the services of mental health professionals (or maybe its the poor individuals around me who are in need of those services...I'm going with that theory). I own my flaws and eccentricities knowing that I am who I am, and its those very qualities that make me the way I am (and the voices).
Argument with myself aside there are a couple things that all of my personalities agree on. We have a mutual hatred of mornings; a lack of tolerance for intellectually deficient individuals and argumentative, badly behaved children; a love of good food and a serious lack of patience for bad service just to name a few.
One night last week after work, I picked up my son and headed to Wally World to look at camping gear for our upcoming trip to the lake. We were checking out tents, lanterns, air mattresses, and all the other cool camping gadgets geared at making roughing it not so rough, when the Turd (my son) lets out a sound which could only be comparable to a small child on Christmas morning then yelled out, "Mom, come here!!!" I took a couple steps toward his voice and realized what he'd found. The gold mine of isles for any tween and above boy...the airsoft, pellet and paint gun aisle. I don't think so. I explain to him that we're there for camping gear and those were not camping accessories. He champions the cause in his effort to obtain what he saw as weapons of mass destruction by saying something about protection from wild animals, yada, yada, yada shut the hell up. I mean really, what's he going to defend us against with an air soft gun? Squirel? Rat? Roach maybe?
The rest of our Wally World experience was polluted with him pleading, me telling him no several different ways, him trying to convince me that an airsoft gun was something I simply could not allow him to continue living without, and finally me telling him I better NOT hear another dang blasted word about it or else, as I thought of what a great look this would be for him.
Already irritated we went to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner (and a JUMBO margarita...for me, not Turd). Man-Friend met us at the restaurant and when the waiter came to the table we ordered two jumbo margaritas and a tea for Turd as well as some pico and cheese dip. When the waiter came back with our drinks, we asked for a couple glasses of water. That's where it begins.
While normally the tequila in the margarita would begin relaxing the worries away, I was feeling a bit dehydrated and REALLY wanted a glass of water. I'm not in the service industry and don't claim to be an expert in the field of waiterology, but it seems to me that an order of two waters would be a relatively simple concept. However, after several minutes our waiter was wondering around aimlessly looking like he'd just smoked a big fat joint and we still hadn't gotten our waters or placed our food order. When the dufass waiter finally remembered where he was and came back to the table I politely reminded him that we were still waiting on our waters. We placed our orders and soon after Dufass returns...with one water which Turd wants to claim because his "tea is too sweet". Ugggg.
My patience is running seriously thin, so I take a big pull off of my jumbo margarita and say in the politest voice I could muster to please bring us two more waters. Several more minutes passed before Dufass returned and handed the one glass of water he'd returned with...to Man-Friend. Now this may seem like a small or petty problem and not worth making a big deal over, but I was REALLY thirsty and REALLY wanted a glass of water AND was already quite irritated before I arrived.
This was getting on my every last nerve. I felt my eyebrow start to twitch and my upper lip begin to spasm as I'm asking him again for a glass of water through my shriveling from dehydration lips. Man-Friend could feel the tension building and quickly offered me his water in an effort to ease the tension but NO!!!! Bring me a fucking glass of water! (though I managed to avoid the meltdown and just shoot daggers at him through my narrowing eyes.) I think he got the point and finally I got a water.
Because I'd ordered pico and cheese dip and can just about make a meal out of the chips and dips (and liquor), I decided to order a small burrito called the San Jose Burrito for a cool $5.75 verses paying $9-10 for a meal that I wouldn't eat much of. A little while later, Dufass starts bringing our food, one plate at a time. First he brings Turd's food, followed a few minutes later by Man-Friend's plate, then a few minutes later with my plate. As he begins handing me the plate he says here's your California Burrito or whatever the fuck location Burrito it was that was NOT the burrito I ordered but WAS twice as expensive. Are you fucking kidding me?
Me: That's not what I ordered.
Dufass: It's the (whatever the fuck) Burrito.
Me: I didn't order the (whatever the fuck) Burrito. I ordered the pork San Jose Burrito.
Dufass: (as he holds the plate over Man-Friend trying to hand it to me) But it's pork.
Me: But it's not what I ordered and I'm not paying twice as much for a burrito that I didn't order.
Dufass: But it IS pork (as he tries again to give me the wrong menu item yet again).
Me: I ordered the San Jose Burrito.
Dufass: But it's pork!
Me: (about to seriously lose my shit) But it is NOT the $5.75 pork San Jose Burrito and I'm NOT paying the $9.00 for the (whatever the fuck) burrito!! (It took everything in me not to say FUCK YOU AND YOUR PORK AND GET ME THE FUCKING BURRITO I ORDERED DUMBASS! as my eyes bulged and steam sprayed from my ears.)
A light finally seems to come on behind his glazed over eyes and he apologizes to which I tell him how completely frustrated I am by the whole experience and send him off to get my order while I take another BIG pull off my quickly disappearing jumbo margarita.
My blood pressure was so high I could feel my pulse at my temples. I'm forcing myself to take slow deep breaths to try and calm myself when Turd says, "Mom, you know those airsoft guns?"
Me:"Are you freaking kidding me? I'M ABOUT TO SERIOUSLY LOSE MY SHIT and you're gonna bring up something I told you to drop already?!"
Turd: "Mom!! But it's pork!"
What can you do right there? I went between wanting to strangle him and wanting to laugh right then. I finally got my food, and managed to get out of there without strangling Turd of Dufass, but barely. Between Turd acting like a turd and the completely shitty service at the restaurant,that was an accomplishment I was quite proud of. Hopefully Dufass will leave the dope at home on my next trip.
The rest of our Wally World experience was polluted with him pleading, me telling him no several different ways, him trying to convince me that an airsoft gun was something I simply could not allow him to continue living without, and finally me telling him I better NOT hear another dang blasted word about it or else, as I thought of what a great look this would be for him.
While normally the tequila in the margarita would begin relaxing the worries away, I was feeling a bit dehydrated and REALLY wanted a glass of water. I'm not in the service industry and don't claim to be an expert in the field of waiterology, but it seems to me that an order of two waters would be a relatively simple concept. However, after several minutes our waiter was wondering around aimlessly looking like he'd just smoked a big fat joint and we still hadn't gotten our waters or placed our food order. When the dufass waiter finally remembered where he was and came back to the table I politely reminded him that we were still waiting on our waters. We placed our orders and soon after Dufass returns...with one water which Turd wants to claim because his "tea is too sweet". Ugggg.
My patience is running seriously thin, so I take a big pull off of my jumbo margarita and say in the politest voice I could muster to please bring us two more waters. Several more minutes passed before Dufass returned and handed the one glass of water he'd returned with...to Man-Friend. Now this may seem like a small or petty problem and not worth making a big deal over, but I was REALLY thirsty and REALLY wanted a glass of water AND was already quite irritated before I arrived.
This was getting on my every last nerve. I felt my eyebrow start to twitch and my upper lip begin to spasm as I'm asking him again for a glass of water through my shriveling from dehydration lips. Man-Friend could feel the tension building and quickly offered me his water in an effort to ease the tension but NO!!!! Bring me a fucking glass of water! (though I managed to avoid the meltdown and just shoot daggers at him through my narrowing eyes.) I think he got the point and finally I got a water.
Because I'd ordered pico and cheese dip and can just about make a meal out of the chips and dips (and liquor), I decided to order a small burrito called the San Jose Burrito for a cool $5.75 verses paying $9-10 for a meal that I wouldn't eat much of. A little while later, Dufass starts bringing our food, one plate at a time. First he brings Turd's food, followed a few minutes later by Man-Friend's plate, then a few minutes later with my plate. As he begins handing me the plate he says here's your California Burrito or whatever the fuck location Burrito it was that was NOT the burrito I ordered but WAS twice as expensive. Are you fucking kidding me?
Me: That's not what I ordered.
Dufass: It's the (whatever the fuck) Burrito.
Me: I didn't order the (whatever the fuck) Burrito. I ordered the pork San Jose Burrito.
Dufass: (as he holds the plate over Man-Friend trying to hand it to me) But it's pork.
Me: But it's not what I ordered and I'm not paying twice as much for a burrito that I didn't order.
Dufass: But it IS pork (as he tries again to give me the wrong menu item yet again).
Me: I ordered the San Jose Burrito.
Dufass: But it's pork!
Me: (about to seriously lose my shit) But it is NOT the $5.75 pork San Jose Burrito and I'm NOT paying the $9.00 for the (whatever the fuck) burrito!! (It took everything in me not to say FUCK YOU AND YOUR PORK AND GET ME THE FUCKING BURRITO I ORDERED DUMBASS! as my eyes bulged and steam sprayed from my ears.)
A light finally seems to come on behind his glazed over eyes and he apologizes to which I tell him how completely frustrated I am by the whole experience and send him off to get my order while I take another BIG pull off my quickly disappearing jumbo margarita.
My blood pressure was so high I could feel my pulse at my temples. I'm forcing myself to take slow deep breaths to try and calm myself when Turd says, "Mom, you know those airsoft guns?"
Me:"Are you freaking kidding me? I'M ABOUT TO SERIOUSLY LOSE MY SHIT and you're gonna bring up something I told you to drop already?!"
Turd: "Mom!! But it's pork!"
What can you do right there? I went between wanting to strangle him and wanting to laugh right then. I finally got my food, and managed to get out of there without strangling Turd of Dufass, but barely. Between Turd acting like a turd and the completely shitty service at the restaurant,that was an accomplishment I was quite proud of. Hopefully Dufass will leave the dope at home on my next trip.
Ugh, that's the worst, shitty service. I have several friends I the industry and I understand that it's crappy to have to be a server but that was ridiculous. I find the best course of action is to calmly ask for the manager....you usually be a free something.
ReplyDeleteSad thing, Kevin, is this is a restaurant I frequent regularly and it's usually decent. Even though this guy is not the best waiter, he's usually much better than that. He was on some good shit that night!
DeleteHahahaha! Spawn's 'future cohort,' made me laugh with his retort at the end.
ReplyDeleteI don't blame you for not buying him the gun. First it's airsoft guns, next it's sub-atomic ray machines that hypnotize the masses into mindless drones...
And I'll have whatever that waiter was on.
Spawn and Turd must never meet. I'm afraid between the two of them, they'd figure out how to turn an airsoft gun into a hypnotic sub-atomic ray machine and we'd be their first victims. "But it's pork" would become the phrase that would trigger the hypnosis and send us into action (making them a sandwich while they plan the world domination or changing their video games, etc.)
DeleteAs for the waiter, I wanted some of it too. I mean if he'd have slipped some in my water it would have been all good!
Did we go to the same restaurant? My son ordered a guacamole salad which they promptly forgot and gave him the wrong order and then when he corrected it they gave him shredded lettuce, one slice of a tomato and a tablespoon guacamole on top. That's it. What the hell is that? When the guy put the plate down I bust out laughing, I just couldn't help myself and waited for my son to defend himself (he's 20) but he was so shocked he just looked at the waiter and back to his plate and back at that waiter and the waiter nodded real quick and walked away and never came back...
ReplyDeleteElsie, I grew up in San Diego...a mere few minutes from the Mexican border. When you ate Mexican food in California, it had flavor, spice and hardy portions. The first time I ate at a Mexican restaurant after moving to Georgia, I thought they'd just picked a country and said it was that kind of food because the food was bland, most of it bad, and the portions were small. Add to that shitty service and it's almost enough to lose my business...but I'll give them one more chance.
DeleteThis is too fucking funny! Your son sounds like my 12-yo son...or maybe all boys of that age sound alike? LOL! And that restaurant experience? Holy hell! I would've flipped shit. Kudos to you for keeping your cool. :-)
ReplyDeleteYou know those TV moments when the character is in a difficult situation and then suddenly turns all ax murderer hacking the person they are in conflict with up into tiny pieces and feeding them to their pet alligator...then suddenly the movie goes back and the person is still running their mouth and you realize it was just a daydream...yeah, I totally had that moment.
DeleteTo be fair, all kids need an airsoft gun. Everyone's carrying them these days. How to you expect him to protect himself on those mean streets without one?
ReplyDeleteOh I do get it. I mean, hows a boy supposed to bust a pellet in that ass if he's not packing the heat? But see, I'm worried that Turd is going to join up with Lily's Spawn in his quest for world domination in the next three years. I figure by not buying the airsoft gun, I'm prolonging it by at least a few days. I'd say your welcome, but after that comment, the boys will probably recruit you to be their general. Maybe I should start saluting you now.
DeleteNow that's some serious self-control you got there. I would've grabbed the burrito and force fed it to him while yelling, "WHAT'S THE MATTER? IT'S JUST PORK!"
ReplyDeleteBut, I don't get that about some waiters. I used to be a cook at a few restaurants, and the cooks do a majority of the work for a 1/3 of the pay of a waiter. Their job is easy because I had to sub for a waiter a few times and I loved it.
And, I'm all about the paintball guns. Though, airsoft guns can be pretty cool. I had a shotgun that shot out a bunch of beads at once. Pretty sweet.
I think I should have gotten some sort of recognition or even an award for the restraint I showed!
DeleteI love guns as much as the next person. Son has his own rifle and shotgun that are locked in a gun cabinet until he and his dad go hunting or we go shooting, but give him an airsoft gun that he'll want to be able to "play with", and I see dead birds, squirrels and whatever other small vermin cross his path, not to mention broken windows and disgruntled parents after he bings their child in the forehead. Yeah, maybe when he's 12...18.
Good Job Dear! i enjoyed seeing it,
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DeleteAir soft guns are considered non lethal, I bought if you would find dead animals laying around. I use an air soft sniper rifle to keep the squirrels out of my bird feeder and I haven't killed one yet. Plus if they are dumb enough to come back, I get to shoot them again.
ReplyDeleteTruth be known I'm not really worried about the animals or them being lethal but so see the neighborhood boys shooting each other in fun and the parents bitching at me when they do! Boys being boys and all. I mean then I might resort to shooting the parents, then next thing you know the whole neighborhood is packing airsoft
DeleteGuns, hiding in the bushes acting like snipers picking off the neighbors. Yeah...it wouldn't be pretty!
DeleteI love when a server argues with you over what YOU ordered. Like you're the idiot. Did you leave them no tip? That's what I do. I have friends that used to be servers, and when they get service like this, they say, "Oh, well usually I tip 20%, so I'll only tip them 15% because I know how hard the industry is. The message is still sent that they did a bad job, but you NEED to tip."
ReplyDeleteAnd I just think, no you don't, you moron. If you get blatantly shitty service, you get no tip. If you want a tip in a hard industry, then bring me a glass of water at a reasonable time and don't argue with me over my order and you'll get your 20%. Doesn't seem like a hard concept, right?
AMEN!!! I understand that it's a tough industry and am usually a very generous tipper, but when the asshat is standing around looking lost and providing shitty service he's gonna get what I call a napkin tip. A napkin left under a small amount of change with a note written on it saying, "For you to wipe up that shitty service."
DeleteI have to work hard for my money. If a server wants some of it, they better work hard for me or I'm leaving with it. It's that simple.
I'm glad I'm not the only one that feels this way. These particular friends make me sound like some kind of monster. It's not like I'm one of those assholes who asks their server to jump through hoops for me just to watch them squirm. My rich brother in law does that, and it's painful to watch (asshole millionaire syndrome, or AMS).
DeleteAlso, re: your comment, it's to my understanding that either you can pledge an extra 25, which will make your total 50, or you can remove your pledge entirely and make a new one for 50, in case you really did want to be ABFTS'd (as we like to call it). Oh, and it's not just a cool little picture to put on your blog, it's also a full blog post adventure where you hang out with us, featured on our page with a link back to yours.
This can either be horrifying or awesome depending on your level of sanity and/or modesty, however, your avatar pic and hilarious posts suggest this shouldn't be a problem, I'm assuming. :)
I'll probably post it in the next week or so, and no...shouldn't be a problem at all. If you're gonna laugh at other people you got to be able laugh at yourself. Sounds like too much fun to miss out on! As for sanity, I think I put it in a drawer for safe keeping, but forgot which drawer.
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