a la carte

So, the past few weeks @ the store have been largely unremarkable.  Random funny things have been happening, though; and while they’ve been funny enough for those of us on the floor to laugh heartily @ the customers expense back in the kitchen, none were long enough to warrant an entire post.  I’ll consolidate here:

* A colleague of mine (let’s call him John), handsome and italian, had been shacking up for some time w/ a girl he used to work with.  Problem is, this girl has a boyfriend.  Their time together was while said paramour was out of town, and John actually didn’t have any place to stay (yeah he’s a really smart guy).  So he’s got a bunch of his things @ this girl’s boyfriend’s apartment.  Sure enough, the boyfriend comes back into town, having been apprised of the dynamically dumb duo’s actions in his absence.  As he walks into the bar (he is, by the way, considerably larger than John, and a regular @ our store) we actually hear John gasp.  John @ this point is half wasted on jack & cokes, and spends a good hour or so hiding in the kitchen while the cooks, the mgr, and me give him shit unmercifully.  I left before the outcome, but both of John’s legs are still working.

* Dumb shit we’ve heard from customers:

– A customer w/ a plate so clean they may have licked it: “oh this was terrible” (People, PLEASE stop this. It’s not funny. It will never be funny.)

– Asshole @ the bar flirting w/ a girl: he pulls out his credit card, shows it to her and proceeds: “This is a world card, so if I keep getting points, eventually I’ll own the world”
(I hope that guy kills himself, his father’s father would be disappointed w/ that performance)

– tbl 73, this was great: a deuce that may or may not be a couple. contemplating whether or not to order another pitcher of beer: after I ask if they’d like another, the guy says yes, the girl says no; this went on for almost a minute before the girl told him flat-out “I’m not fucking you no matter how drunk I am.” Then it got awkward, and I slid out to tell everyone else about it.

– tbl 11: the girl asks me where our ribeye comes from.  I tell her the name of the ranch, and all the business about horomone-free raising blah blah blah.  She then says: “Well I just want to make sure that the cows are raised humanely.” WHAT THE FUCK?!  I’m sure that cow was glad he/she got a chance to live a “comfortable” life before A MACHINE CUT IT DOWN INTO LITTLE BITTY PIECES OF ITSELF. Jesus people are stupid.