Why I Hate Being A Waiter

Being a writer I naturally have jobs on the side of my lucrative career. One of which is my long and love-hate relationship with the service industry. The best and worst part about this job is the customers. One customer could really make your day perfect and another could make you hate your life.

It's not even them being rude or tipping like a thankful cat. Even though at times I would rather you give me a dead bird than the change you just received from buying second hand tea bags from the shop that is five miles from your house just because they have better 'bargains'.

My main annoyance with the general populace is their belief that my job is to fulfill their every want and desire. Like why would you want lemon with your water? 'Excuse me my drink doesn't have any vagina in it?' that's what I hear. The only thing that I should be adding to your complimentary water is more water. Bruce Jenner probably went into a restaurant and asked for lemon in his/her water and the server misunderstood and gave him/her a fucking vagina.

And don't give me 'Well that's your job' bullshit. What the fuck do I look like? I didn't know my pimp let me change your meal so it's a shadow of its former self whilst working your arsehole like a pro. You don't want sour cream on your salmon then don't order it, its salmon. Let me give you this smoked salmon with no moisture so you can say in your head 'My body is 0.000001% healthier now I got rid of that gluten/soduim/carb addition that will make your supposed 'allergy' make your life less inconvenient.

I'm not going to have a go at those people that believe they are allergic to a million other things because I'm allergic to something. I went to Tacombi, an amazing Mexican restaurant and had some excellent food. When I got home my hands, my back, my chest, neck, head, eyeballs were all on fire, begging to be scratched. I had an allergic reaction to something I ate but you know the next time I go in, I'll put my massive balls in a wheelbarrow and order the same thing. I didn't die so fuck it, I got in the shower and was cool. Those hives went down as quick as they came up thanks to the best cold shower I've ever had. (Oh wait I did have a go at those people.) The only allergies that are of any importance are nuts and shellfish, anyone else make room for people who want to live life.

Speaking of living 'I don't eat gluten.' 'Oh are you allergic?' (in my politest server voice) 'No my family and I of white middle class suburban ball gaggers don't eat gluten.' Oh so when you die from getting hit by a car next week can you say you've lived a full life when you turned down getting a pizza at 1am when you were drunk? No you can't.

The only people who can be excused from having bread are people allergic to it. Anyone else you seriously need to look at your priorities. Pull down your pants, take out that 9" deluded dildo of a better lifestyle, you've had squeezed up inside you since that last time you called yourself a man and have bacon sandwich, with extra ketchup, margarine, on the whitest bread you could find. Because when death comes sooner then you think he won't care you've avoided gluten for your whole plain existence of a so called life.