Owner: I Serve Idiots URL:www.iserveidiots.com Join Date: Sun, 04 Mar 2007 09:49:40 -0600 Rating:0 Site Description: I am a waiter and I serve idiots so you don't have to. Site statistics:Click here
Half-Full Looks Odd? Screw You. 2007-07-15 15:23:54 Before I begin this post, let me just start by explaining that the reason I’m not posting up here after I said I would is because the band I was in received a couple of extra opportunities to record and play shows around my home state. Things will wrap up by next week and I’ll be writing more regularly.
That said, let’s do this.
I was waiting tables this one night and as I passed a table in the middle of the restaurant, a woman had a half-full glass of Coke.
A little backstory: We got these new 24- or 28-ounce cups. I can never remember which. Regardless, half of a glass of Coke is still a hell of a lot of Coke.
So as I pass the table, Cruella deVille gives me this snide little look and says “Waiter, come over here a moment.”
Let me tell you three things the bitch got wrong with those six words:
1. Don’t call me “waiter”. Say something like “excuse me” or “sir” or “mister”. Calling me “waiter&rdqu Read more:Looks
, Screw
Sorry Everyone. 2007-07-16 19:23:03 Of course I would fuck up the newsletter thing I tried. I put everyone’s email addresses in the “To:” section instead of the “BCC:” section. Because of that, I accidentally sent out everyone’s email address I was sending the email to. After I sent it to the first 250 I realized what I did (or rather, a couple of you did) and for the next batches, I rectified the mistake.
But for that dumbass mistake, I’m sorry everyone.
I don’t really know how much damage it could do, but again, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.
Emily, You’re No Goldilocks. 2007-07-16 15:18:59 There’s a girl named Emily
at our work. My friend Marybeth works with her quite often. This girl, Emily, will quite literally talk about herself all day long.
For instance, after hours of working, she walked up to Marybeth and said “I really don’t know my hair stays so silky smooth all. day. long.” This is while stroking her black head of hair like a horse’s mane or something. Marybeth, on the other hand, is red in the face from (get this) running around and earning her money.
All the guys in the house: Who would you rather date? Really? I rest my case, Emily.
And that’s not the half of it. This is the same girl that asked me THE DAY I CAME INTO TOWN FROM SIX WEEKS ON THE ROAD PLAYING DRUMS IF I WOULD PICK UP HER SHIFT THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON. This is the same girl that will literally get pissed at you when you won’t give her your Friday night shift. This is the same girl that, when given a shift out of the goodness of someone’s (i.e. min
I’m An English Major And No That’s Not A Figure Of Speech, Ma’am. 2007-07-19 13:06:42 Her: “I’d like a Shrimp and Scallops dinner, hold the shrimp.”
Me: “Umm…so…you want a Scallops dinner? You know, we have those as well. They come with a…”
Her: “Oh, I was just using a figure of speech.”
Me: “A what?”
Her: “A figure of speech. Live a little, kid.”
Me: “Kid? Okay. Well, would you like a refill on your regular Coke hold the calories? Or do you want me to just get you a Diet Coke from now on?”
Her Husband: “Hahahahahahahaha!”
Read more:English
, Major
, Speech
If You’re Going To Talk To Your Mistress, Do It Somewhere Classier Than Our Bathroom. 2007-07-21 14:45:41 Every now and again, I’m going to bring back an older post that many of you frequenting my site may not have had the opportunity to read. Here is one of them now:
As I walk into the bathroom, I hear someone talking very excitedly into the phone in the closed-door stall. Curious, I listen in as I use the urinal.
Him: “Listen, baby, I’m here with my wife. How’s an hour sound?…Okay…Yea…Yea…No, that won’t work…Yea!…Okay, see you then.”
The look he gave me as he walked out of the stall and saw me washing my hands was one of first confusion and then fear. My expression nearly matched his as I realized this was the same man who just minutes ago I was serving onion soup and two Philadelphia sushi rolls to. I didn’t know this dude was my customer.
For the rest of the meal, the knot in my stomach made its way up into my throat as I saw this man affectionately kiss his wife, hold her hand with his left and feed his in Read more:Going
, Mistress
, Somewhere
Contest #3 2007-07-25 11:48:57 CONTEST #1 WINNER: STRIP CLUB SERVER!
CONTEST #2 WINNER: Everyone named here. Thanks for the suggestions, ladies and gents.
I’ve been getting a lot of stories from my readers about their experiences in the restaurant industry. They’re all fairly good and I’ve put some of the gems on the “Reader’s Idiots” page. I now want to focus more on you guys.
My next contest, which will run for the next two months through September 25th, is simple. You’ve all read stories on MY site. Write one of your own.
See? Simple. Every Monday, I’ll post the best story I get on the main page. That’s eight winners during the two months this contest is going on.
I receive between 500-1000 unique visitors a day, so if you have your own website, that’s hundreds of new people reading your material and getting forwarded to your own site.
If you don’t have a site, it’s still a place to showcase your non-fiction writing skills in front of an au Read more:Contest
It’s Elementary, You Twit. 2007-07-23 22:29:08 So I’m serving a sixty-something year in a tweed jacket. That should be punchline enough for you people.
But, no, that’s not the end of it. He talks as if he’s an extra out of a Monty Python skit and has a nose and disposition that even Winston Churchill would call “too British”.
Him: “Excuse me, sir. Why did you just carry out my beverage with your hands?”
Me: “Umm…I don’t quite know how to answer that, sir.”
Him: “Of course you don’t, my boy. Why didn’t you carry it out on a tray?”
Me: (In my best Sherlock Holmes) “I didn’t see the need, sir. It would be a waste of a good tray, old chap, if I were to use a whole blasted tray for one drink.”
Him: (Visibly angry)
Me: “Plus, with the way everything is just buggers in this tavern t’night, I thought I’d let me friends take the trays for all those plates of fish and chips hot off the steamer for the rest of the pat Read more:Elementary
And The Winner Is…A Drug Dealer! 2007-07-30 19:33:22 Quite literally, folks.
Here’s a story this pharmacist gave me:
—————————————————–
One of the worst things you can do in any health care facility is hit on the staff. Especially if you are there under questionable circumstances. That being said, I was working in the drive-thru of the drug store last Friday when this real winner drives up.
I would describe him as a Toby Keith-wannabe. I personally love Toby, but this shmuck fell miserably short of his goal.
Anyway, his old pickup truck was so loud in the drive-thru he had to turn it off to talk to me. He then proceeds to call me “baby” and give me his prescriptions. I look down to see two pain killers, an antibiotic, and a pill which is commonly given for an STD or cancer.
There was no question the reason why he was taking the medication.
After he drove off, I typed in his prescriptions to find that since he Read more:Dealer
Why Did The Tuna Cross The Road? 2007-07-29 03:42:46 Me: “So, have you two decided on what you’d like for dinner?”
Husband: “I’ll have the Steak And Scallops and she’ll have the…(starts to laugh)…Tuna Dinner.”
(The Husband and Wife begin to laugh)
Me: “Okay…so Steak And Scallops Dinner and a Tuna Dinner? Would you…”
(They start laughing again)
Me: “Ummm…is everything okay, you two?”
Husband: “Oh, it was just a joke. She hates tuna.”
Wife: “It’s true.”
Me: “Uh…a joke?”
Husband: “Yes.”
Me: “I don’t get it.”
Husband: “She doesn’t like tuna…”
Wife: “I don’t like tuna…”
Husband: “Get it?”
Me: “No.”
Husband: “You ruin jokes a lot at parties, don’t you?”
Me: “Yea, it’s a hobby of mine.”
Read more:Cross
There Is Green Food, Lady. Grow Up. Like Your Four Year Old. 2007-08-02 01:56:34 I don’t know about you, but I hate picky adults. And that’s not just from a server’s viewpoint. That’s from a “normal person like when I’m in line at the grocery store and some grandmother doesn’t get the 10 cents off her pulp-free orange juice because the coupon expired four months ago” kind of viewpoint.
So when I walk up to table and deliver a woman’s food and she says something like, oh I don’t know, like “You’re going to have to take this back, I can’t eat these vegetables” it really boils my blood. What’s worse are their excuses.
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am. Do you have any allergies I wasn’t aware of?”
Her: “No.”
Me: “Umm…”
Her: “I just don’t like green vegetables.”
She then returns to her conversation with her friend as if that was the most normal thing I had heard all day.
Green
vegetables? Green frickin’ v
If He Can Play A Gameboy, He Can Hold An Adult Cup. 2007-08-04 13:52:55 Before I begin, I’ve never understood how someone could be in such a foul mood when coming into a restaurant. When I was a little kid I always felt it was a treat for my Mom to say, “Let’s go out to (fill in the blank) tonight.”
And to this day, as a 21 year old man, I still get a little giddy when I have plans to go out to eat at a restaurant or coffeeshop I’ve never been to.
What the hell, people? Are your lives so miserable that even the prospect of eating food you hardly eat on dishes you won’t have to clean with friends you don’t see nearly as often as you should can’t cheer you up?
…Which brings me to my story.
Of course it would be my first table back after more than two months pursuing other things that I am sat the pinnacle of bitchiness and her grumpy, disappointed family of ten. This woman was to “angry and stuck up for no damn reason” what Liz Taylor is to winning academy awards.
I greet them with a smile th Read more:Gameboy
, Adult
Back In The Trenches. 2007-08-02 17:24:26 I’m going back to work tomorrow at The-restaurant-whose-name-we-shall-not-speak. It’s only for a couple of weekend nights here and there and I’m always in need of a little more money. Plus, my internship is only Monday through Thursday.
God help the sushi-loving, Japanese cuisine-eating people of St. Augustine, Florida.
Read more:Trenches
Blades And Four Year Olds Do Not Mix, Ma’am. 2007-08-07 00:50:47 And the winner is…
A guy by the name of WILLIAM JOHNSON! Here goes his story:
A quick bit of background on my story. I am in the quality assurance department of the company I work for. I listen to calls that different work at home agents take for various companies and grade them accordingly to how well they follow that company’s phone policies.
Here is one such call I had to screen:
Agent: “Thank you for calling (major toy store brand). How may I help you?
Woman: “Yes, I was wondering if you carried miniature versions of appliances that really work. I want to teach my four year old daughter how to cook. Do you have a gas oven (a fucking gas oven?) I could buy for her or perhaps a real working smaller blender (with actual fucking blades?) she could use?”
Agent: “Uh…we carry the Easy-Bake-Oven that cooks food with a light bulb. Will that do?”
Woman: “No. I was really hoping I could find a real working version of larger appliance Read more:Blades
Things You Shouldn’t Do In Life: #2 - Put Coke In Your Infant’s Bottle 2007-08-05 12:44:48 Like I’ve said before, where our restaurant is located, we get a good mix of low-income white trash and high-income, stuck-up bitches that have a taste for Appletinis.
File this one under: “low-income white trash”.
A mother and father come in with their children, all under the age of five. The youngest is no older than one. He’s crying and carrying on and flailing wildly but that’s par for the course with mothers like this one missing teeth and fathers like this one asking if we have “PBR in a can”.
I’m fucking 21 years old and even I don’t drink PBR. That shit is one step above “a horse’s piss after drinking bad beer”.
So the mother and father are sitting there, trading stories about pick-up trucks or whatever it is backwoods parents with Dale Earnhardt t-shirts talk about to pass the time.
And the kid is still crying. The other customers at the table are starting to get a little frustrated. I am praying silently Read more:Infant
Jesus Can Walk On Water But He Can’t Pay My Electric Bills, Sir. 2007-08-08 23:36:39 It’s always on Sundays, isn’t it? Like clockwork with you Southern Baptists.
Old Man: “You did such a nice job. This is for you.” (Hands me the Tip Booklet)
Me: “Thank you, sir.” (Not opening said Tip Booklet)
Old Man: “No. Open it. It’s for you. Thanks again.”
Me: “Umm…sure…” (I open the Tip Booklet. My face turns red)
Old Man: “…”
Me: “Umm…sir…can I ask if something was wrong? If so, I’ll gladly try and compensa…”
Old Man: “No, no, no…you don’t understand. You did a great job.”
I truly cannot go on with this story. Everyone knows where it’s going.
And that’s damn near sad that everyone knows where it’s going (everyone that’s been a server, that is).
Everyone knows that the old man doesn’t get it.
Every server reading this is probably feeling a twinge of what I felt last Sunday afternoon.
And Read more:Jesus
, Electric
, Bills
I Will Most Likely Regret This. 2007-08-11 10:23:33 So I have a few days off starting next Thursday (8/16) until Sunday (8/19) with absolutely no committments and no work at the restaurant.
Why am I telling you this? Because I want to do something. I got about a dozen emails from people in North Carolina when I said I was coming through for a couple of weeks. I had way too many responsibilities to take advantage, but now I want to go on a small little road trip and make way around the southeast.
I’ll be starting in northeast Florida and going whereever the wind takes me. If you’ve got a spare couch (or bed!), I’d love to stop by. And if I stop on by, I’ll buy you a few rounds of beers or nectarinis or sodas or smoothies or whatever your heart desires. Hell, I’ll buy you some chicken if you want it.
Just email me at iserveidiots@gmail.com with what city you’re in, maybe a little bit of contact info and I’ll try and create a four-day roadtrip. If everything goes as wildly as I hope it will, I&rsqu Read more:Regret
Adjacent To Refuse Is Still Refuse. 2007-08-16 00:02:44 Drunk Woman: “Can I have a to-go box for my fried rice?”
Me: “Sure.”
(After paying the bill)
Drunk Woman: “You know…I’m…I’m not really going to eat that rice. Can you throw it away for me at the bar?”
Me: “Yea, not a problem. Have a nice night.”
(After a few more minutes)
Drunk Woman: “On second though…can I…can I have that…uh…rice back?”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I already threw it away.”
Drunk Woman: “Well…is it on the top of the trash or did you…throw it…smush it down in there?”
Me: “Let me check.”
(I check)
Me: “It’s down in there.”
Drunk Woman: “Oh.” (turns to drunk boyfriend) “Think it’s still good?”
Drunk Boyfriend: “It is definitely time to go.”
I’d think a woman who went dumpster-diving would tip a lot worse than her. Goes to show you can&rsquo Read more:Refuse
I Need To Get Into The Used-Car Business. Immediately. 2007-08-13 20:46:28 The third winner of my weekly contest is an ex-car salesman and a woman. Weird combination, eh? Her name’s Sarah Slabaugh and this story is from when she used to sell cars. From the way her co-workers described her in her story, she must have sold them well. Phenomenally well.
I don’t have a fear of heights, I simply have a problem with my personal space being invaded.
For two days we are having one of those godawful little teamwork building seminars. You know, when you sit around and talk about how to improve the company. You congratulate each other on your various strong points. You reinvent the wheel. And you also have those fun little exercises where you are supposed to learn to trust and love your co-workers. Stuff, The Office, was based on.
The first clever execise was jumping off a ladder into the outstretched arms of our co-workers. Mind you, most people were scared at the jumping off the ladder bit. Personally, I have no problem with heights, it was the touching a Read more:Business
I’ll Break YOUR Back, Lady. 2007-08-19 14:04:56 Every now and again, I’m going to bring back an older post that many of you frequenting my site may not have had the opportunity to read. Here is one of them now:
Last night was a slow night…made probably 30 bucks. But, as slow nights usually go, I found myself making small talk with random people to try and boost my tips. As I was walking up to one table to take up two women’s dishes, I heard one of them whisper:
“Let’s ask our waiter…he looks like HE’S seen Brokeback Mountain.”
Now let’s stop right there. What is it about me that screams, “This kid’s seen Brokeback Mountain”. Nothing against gay dudes, but I’d rather that not be the first thing running through someone’s head when they see me. Just like all you gay dudes don’t want me popping up in stranger’s heads when they see YOU. I’m sure all you gay dudes understand.
Anyway, as I’m gathering their plates I say, “Excuse Read more:Break
Self-Seaters Should Expect Self-Service. 2007-08-20 23:31:37 You can thank Lizzie for this next story. She’s the winner of the third week of my eight-week contest giving you guys a chance to showcase your writing skills. If you think you can do better, email me at iserveidiots@gmail.com and I’ll pick the best story out of this week and post it next Monday.
I worked this summer as a server in an upscale restaurant in a resort that is on the beach. As it just opened about three months ago, there are some kinks that haven’t been worked out yet, one of them being the fact that we have an outdoor patio that is not fenced in. As a result, any random tourist can walk in off the beach in health-code- (and social-modesty-) -defying swimsuits and be covered in sand.
90% of these idiots are also self-seaters. (Fuck them).
After a few weeks we got smart enough to put up a sign that says:
“Please see hostess desk to be seated and served outside.”
We forgot one important thing: people can’t read.
So after getting yelled Read more:Expect
, Service
Appetizers Come Before The Meal. Period. 2007-08-27 21:33:46 The fourth winner of the weekly contest comes to us all the way from Portland, Oregon. She asked me that I not say her name as she has co-workers that also read the site and she’d rather they not read this as they are (and I quote from her email) “stupid bitches that have tried to get [her] fired several times before. If they knew I wrote this, they’d show my boss and I might be let go.”
The kicker was when she mentioned that it’s not her fault that “their anger probably stems from the fact that I [objectionable sexual act omitted] better than they could ever dream.” Way to go, Ms. Oregon. Here’s her story:
So it’s 8:30 on a rainy Friday night. I should have been let go, but one of the girls had recently slept with the shift manager that for that night, so naturally, it was me who had to stay on.
Typical.
I was real testy that night. Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the fact that I’d forgotten my cigarettes at home in my ot Read more:Period
What In The Hell Do You Mean By Special Dessert? 2007-08-24 14:50:04 It truly pisses me off when a man acts like an incredible asshole in hopes of impressing his girlfriend, wife and/or mistress. It especially upsets me when that man is a bro, but tonight was not the night for bros. No, no, no…tonight was the night for middle-aged, balding men out with women that could not possibly have secured dates with had it not been for a bottomless checking account and the promises of much jewelry and fine wine.
As the 40-something man was getting drunker and drunker on our completely-over-priced wine and sake, the woman was still nursing her glass of house Merlot. From the look in the guy’s eye and the way he flicked his tounge as if no one was around him, I would’ve been halfway through my second bottle if I was this guy’s date so as to not remember what was to come later that night.
The two were finishing up their meal and the woman was all thank you’s and please’s. That made one of them. The man was nowhere near as cordial. Read more:Special
, Dessert
How I Went From “Weird” to “Afflicted” to “Straight Up Motherfucking Crazy” at My Last Job and/or How I Avoided Being Asked To Do Odd Jobs Around The Office. 2007-08-30 14:57:35 Exhibit A: I rolled something that looked very much like a joint of marijuana (which was simply rolled copier paper) and lit it, in my office.
Exhibit B: Once I was caught “smoking” in the building, I sprayed enough Coconut Lime Verbena air freshener to force all the coworkers at the opposite end of the building come down to my office and ask me if I was preparing for the beach.
Exhibit C: I took my (very convincing) joint outside to smoke with my boss and stood at the back of the building where cops frequently patrol and chatted amiably while puffing away.
Exhibit D: When a fellow employee asked me what I was doing, I told them my job had given me,a stress related disease and I had, a few weeks ago, been prescribed marijuana for medicinal purposes. The promptly fled.
Exhibit E: The owner stormed out and asked me what exactly I was doing, I calmly informed him I was carefully studying our latest report and absorbing it via smoke osmosis. Didn’t want to miss any scin Read more:Weird
, Straight
, Crazy
To Those Who Use This Bathroom. 2007-09-20 20:01:10 The sign I posted in the public bathroom after one afternoon of seeing one crumpled bit of bath tissue too many on the floor:
To Those Who Use This Bathroom,
We live in a rather advanced day and age of medicine.
Realistic prosthetics have been developed. Every day they are coming closer to a cure for cancer. We no longer have rampant debilitating diseases like…oh, I don’t know, polio? Small pox, the black plague and other sickness that brought certain death have not reared their ugly heads in years.
Do you know why this is possible? Anybody? Bueller?
Because people learned HYGIENE!
Not just the basic washing of hands and soap usage, but the THROWING YOUR PAPER TOWELS INTO THE TRASHCAN!
Think about it: Do you REALLY want to pick up someones germy paper towel with little creepy-crawly things and only God-knows-what on it? NO! And no one wants to pick up yours. So, we have a simple little request:
AIM. And if you miss, pick it up.
The trashcan is waist high, two inches from
It’s Not A Conspiracy, Sir. 2007-09-19 11:47:52 Unless by “conspiracy” you mean “I, the customer, am dumb as shit.”
So this lady and her husband/boyfriend/random drunk hookup are at one of my tables and the lady is bitching about how the steak is “too chewy” when
1) she has eaten over half the steak,
2) she’s eating some as she says this and
3) she ordered it “medium rare”. It’s gonna be chewy, ma’am. Next time order your meat a little more cooked and it’ll be cool.
But then the bill comes and the dude takes one look at it and starts fuming:
Him: “Yea, waiter, the price on the bill for my dinner and the price on the menu are two dollars off.”
Me: “Oh, well…let me get a menu and we can clear this right up and I can get you your two dollars back.”
Let me just stop right there. For everyone that reads this website, this should be a punch in the mouth to anyone that says “Well, the only reason he deals with idiots is because he’s a crappy waiter.” Did you just read what I said to the guy? It’s Read more:Conspiracy
I Want A Restaurant That Can Deep-Fry A Cow In Forty Seconds And I Want It NOW. 2007-09-17 20:08:52 Another manager is the winner of the Monday contest, this time her name’s Margaret and she managers a self-described “high-end restaurant”. That means no microwaves to reheat grilled-cheese sandwiches. No bottles of Hershey’s chocolate syrup to pour over bowls of cheap ice cream. In other words, not my type of restaurant, but probably good nonetheless. It’s short and sweet, but it’s such a common occurrence in the restaurant industry (and I had a boring week of emails from you guys). Enjoy!
A family of six are seated – and the father at the table looks at the menu and says very loudly and with a heavy southern accent:
“I can’t eat here, they ain’t got nothing fried!”
He then proceeds to ask the waiter if we could deep-fry something for her. She couldn’t believe that we didn’t have a deep-fryer. They ended up leaving, but not before informing the waitstaff that they were now in search of a restaurant that knows “how to properly co Read more:Seconds
My Dog Has Better Math Skills Than You, Ma’am. 2007-09-16 20:26:28 Usually when a group of stupid women get together, my penis dies a little. Last night was no exception.
I’ll spare you all the details of their actual dining experience as it makes my head hurt just thinking about it. What made me lose most faith in humanity was when I brought them their bill.
The woman who shouldered the responsibility of paying waved me over after staring at her bill for a good ten minutes. Assume that her dialogue is spoken by a monkey with down syndrome and you’ll have some idea of the mental capacity of this broad.
Her: “Umm…sir…I don’t think the bill came out…like…right.”
Me: “Oh. Well, what’s wrong, ma’am?”
Her: “Well, I bought a side of salmon with the vegetable dinner.”
Me: “Okay.”
Her: “And the side of salmon was…like…nine dollars, right?”
Me: “Yes…”
Her: “And the vegetable dinner is $13.95, right?” Read more:Skills
I’m Drunk. That’s Why. 2007-09-13 15:44:35 I hate little kids. Somehow, when you are a small person without manners you are allowed to ask any variety of probing questions. And for some odd reason, parents never feel the need to police their diarrheal mouthes.
Yesterday morning’s customers were no exception. The parents (the clients) were absently flipping through our products, so the little girls of the parents crowded around my desk, stole my pens, asked me a variety of questions and gazed in wonderment at an adult who didn’t give them their undivided attention.
As they clustered around my chair like so many tangled phone cords, allowing me to get absolutely no work done, one of the little ankle biters shoves her pudgy face in mind and suspiciously demanded to know “What is wrong with you face?!”
I thought about telling her I have allergies, that I am really, really tired or the unforgivable truth that I had been up all night working for their Mommy on a “really important” project. But I
You Just A Lil’ Man? What Does That Even Mean, Ma’am? 2007-09-10 12:30:35 If only we could all have managers like the sixth winner of the contest, Jason Fuller. I’m glad there are still managers out there that will stick up for their servers when they have to deal with customers like this:
I am a manager, so I really only have to deal with the big idiots.
So every Tuesday we have our wing special and we get idiots that have no idea how to behave in a restaurant. This last Tuesday was especially busy and my bar was packed. The bar server was swamped with customers and taking one of about ten orders she needed to take when all of a sudden, a woman at the next table kept trying to get the server’s attention.
Finally, the server said ‘Excuse me,” to the table she was at and and asked the woman what she needed.
Woman: “I need another Long Island Iced Tea, but make this one strong.”
Server: “Okay. I’ll get that for you.”
She turns back to the original table and says “I’m sorry about that”
Fake As A 29th Street Louis Vuitton. 2007-09-27 15:07:16 When I was eight years old I was rightfully told I was well versed in the art of bullshit. I can, with little effort, sound intelligent on almost any subject.
With the exception of airplanes and science fiction movies.
As time has passed, I have realized the value of such a gift. I have honed my craft and polished my arrows of verbal destruction. This has not been in vain.
A customer walked into my office and seated himself in front of my desk. He didn’t knock. Didn’t ask if he could sit. He just planted himself front and center for maximum harassing purposes.
He was a middle aged librarian type. Tweed jacket, leather elbow patches, gold rimmed glasses, crisp in his words. Vaguely interesting fellow, however, highly pretentious. In short, a Grade-A bag of douche.
Sitting behind my desk on my counter is an iron cast statue. I bought it off the sale rack of Ikea. It is pretty, fits nicely with my decor and garners the occasional compliment and conversation.
However, with Read more:Street
, Louis
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