I think I'm entering para-menopause. I heard this term the other day and it flashed through my brain today when I almost tore the eyeballs out of this guy at my table. And when I tell you what happened, you'll probably think I need serious meds.
I go to the table...I take a drink order. Strawberry lemonade, coke, garlic rolls. Yes. During the drink order taking portion of the dining out experience, this guy orders garlic rolls. And he did so in a tone that suggested I'd never heard of such things as "garlic rolls." I wanted to tell him that my bra stinks for 2 days in my hamper after a double...I know what fucking garlic rolls are.
But seriously. Why whould that put me in such a rage? And it's not even that this guy was rude. He was polite when he ordered the garlic rolls to drink. He was just being stupid, and in so doing, threw off my whole order-taking groove. That's it. He threw off my groove.
But I was so enraged that he may as well have called me a fat whore. Then the anger subsided after about 5 minutes and I was fine.
I need to make a doctor's appointment I think.
2 comments:
I do not heart hormones. There are definitely times when I fly off the handle needlessly, and then I know if I tell anyone else what I was so worked up about, that they would either: a) laugh (and I'd punch them in the mouth), or b) think I'm completely insane, and be justified for it. So I feel ya, sister.
Yeah, people suck. I believe in your instincts. If you think he was being sort of rude and condescending, I'll bet he was.
Besides, I know our customers there. They all think they're somebody special, and you're the lemming sent to cater to their every whim.
A little respect, people. We all deserve it (at least until you prove otherwise and then we realize we hate you for being a pretentious asshat).
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