Tuesday, September 22, 2009

I missed the flyer for the trash convention.

I wanted to just scream last night. I did a closing shift for a mere $50, mostly because of the shitty customers I had.

The first set was four middle-aged biker trash people. I say biker trash because of their attitudes. I've seen them a couple of times before, and they're always rude, demanding, and cheap. One of the guys flatly refuses to speak at a normal volume, and then gets pissed off when I ask him to repeat things. Those fuckers were worth $3 on $50.

Then I had teenagers; then old folks; then some woman with her two grandsons, both under age five. By eight at night, I'd made a whole ten dollars. That was when the trash really came in. I had two little wanna-be hood rat teenagers, who "tipped" 76 cents. Then I had another table of "thugs". Now, I have nothing against people who come from urban areas and follow those trends. But when idiot white kids in Whiteville, Mid-West USA roll in with their jeans around their knees, their caps on sideways, and multiple chains sporting pendants? When they speak just like I do except for occasionally throwing in something like "playa" while sneering at everyone? They can go shove their bling up their collective asses.

Still, the far and away winner of the unofficial trash competition was there in the middle of the night. It was a couple; the man seemed average, nothing particularly hickish or anything else about him. The woman with him, though, just emanated trash. She was wearing a huge flannel shirt, half unbuttoned over a stained t-shirt; her hair was greasy; she ordered "one o dem drinks". The entire time they were there, she was slumped over in the booth--her left elbow might as well have been glued to the seat. Even while she was shoveling food into her maw with her right hand, she was leaning on her left arm, practically horizontal.

When really just set me over the edge, though was after they finished eating. When I went to ask if they wanted dessert, Slumpy was still slumping, with her legs sprawled out in to the aisle .... and she was vigorously digging at her teeth with her fork. I'm not talking a quick scrape on the tooth after taking a bite. The rest of their dishes were piled up, but she had that fork gripped in her fist and was just going to town on her gums as if it were a toothpick. She continued doing that while speaking to me. I could vomit.

1 comment:

Steven Nicolle said...

I think you should work with a bodyguard where you are. These people are savages. I'd be interested in knowing where you work in the States.Hope it is a better night for you next time.