The more I work with Dallas, the move convinced I become that she's on something. Or several somethings, more likely. A couple of Fridays ago, she was running around like she was freaking possessed. We couldn't understand half of what she was saying--it didn't even sound like English half the time. I think some of it was her spouting off random rap lyrics as she scuttled around the restaurant like a cockroach on crack.
After about four hours of this, I was getting annoyed. I was ringing in an order, and somebody else was rolling silverware next to me, when Dallas came flying around the corner. She jabbed the other person in the side and when she turned to look at her, Dallas just screamed something in her face. No idea what, but something loud and jumbled.
I was facing another five hours at work and I'd had it. Without raising my voice, I turned and said "Dude, you have got to calm down."
Dallas bounced up to her full height (like 4'9") and screeched, "I ain't gotta do nuttin! My momma's in Texas!"