There is a reason you make less than minimum wage.

I walk into to your everyday average restaurant and it's the same shit all over again. I swear, I should stop trying to find the family restaurant when a fucking Denny’s will do just fine. Denny waitresses have no aspirations. They work at fucking Denny’s. It’s the bottom of the dinner chain…next step Carls Jr. The great thing about Denny’s is that there are no preconceived notions. I know I'm not getting the best meal I ever ate, but I knew that walking into the shithole. Denny’s is going to fill my stomach with average food….at an average food price. Denny's is like a daytime hooker. Not too pricey, doesn't cup the balls, but still gets the job done.

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When I walk into your typical “Family Restaurant”, I get the same shitty service, and it seems that the waitress has a problem with the English Language. What do I mean? Do I live in a highly populated Hispanic area? Close to Chinatown ? Next to the Muslim Temple ? Nope. You would think I did because they can never get my goddamn order correct. I fail to understand how it's always the cooks’ fault when my order is fucking wrong. If the lazy bitch of a waitress could actually tabulate the words coming out of my mouth to the pad of paper in her pasty hand, my order would actually symbolize the word ORDER. For those of you not quite clear on the concept, the definition of the word "order" is a command. As in, get it right dipshit. It’s not multiple choice. There are no exceptions to an order. You can't just do something different to what I told you because you feel like.

In the immortal words of Col. Richard Jessup "We follow orders, son. We follow orders or people die. It's that simple. Are we clear? "

That's right peeps. If my order is wrong. People will die. Just like in Git-Moe.

This happened last week:

Excuse me Miss Waitress. I'd like your Hamburger. Which one? The "Old Fashioned Hamburger" But could I have it without the tomato, onion, mayo, and can you please tell me what a "Brioche" bun is?

SEE WHAT I MEAN?

I hate tomatoes. I hate onions. I hate uncooked mushrooms. I hate peppers of any kind. I dislike hot food so much that the hottest sauce I will ever use is the mild sauce at Taco bell. SO if my meal comes with any of the above,,,,I am going to go crazy. Like Post Office crazy.

When did it become commonplace to have these things accompanying my food? Since when does a salad come with green peppers or mushrooms? When does a club sandwich have onions? Why does every fucking asshole in the world have to put salsa on my tacos? WHY? I guarantee that less of the population likes peppers and onions than I do. Bet on it fucker.

Why am I forced to I feel like a fucking pretentious asshole that requires 14 things done to the order before I can shove it in my piehole? I'm fucking basic. I'm not that lady in her middle 50's that whines about her steak being too pink, or that the bun isn't toasted enough, or that the waiter was too slow to fill her fucking water. I'm not that guy.
I can't stand the fact that I have to spend 10 minutes feeling like a doucheface while I am asking to have multiple things taken off my order.

FUCK THEM. That's right food establishments. Fuck you in your fucking earhole.

Just so we are clear, when my food comes back wrong, don't expect a tip. Or the shaft.

Its food. We are not splitting the atom here. These are just some basic requirements that I have, so don't get pissed when I send the fucking cheeseburger back if it comes with a tomato. The biggest problem is that when they fuck up my order and put tomatoes on the hamburger, the tomato is melted into the cheese so when you pull the tomato off, all the cheese goes with it. So NOW ALL I HAVE IS A HAMBURGER, NOT A CHEESBURGER. If I didn't return it I would just be left with a tomato tasting hamburger. Cockshiner. Now I can expect to pay 15 bucks for someone to spit in my food. Great.

Maybe since I am a fat fuck, I get a salad. Or maybe it’s the kind of day that a wrap is the fastest way to get something to eat. I fail to understand how when I Say HOLD THE TOMATOES,,,it means mince the Tomato into smaller bits so when you get my order wrong I cannot pick them out of my food effectively. So there I am, probably because I'm in a hurry and don't have the time to send it back, acting like a dickweed picking little bits of red globules out of my salad while I eat. Of course…you never get em all. There's always that one motherfucker that sneaks through and you end up not expecting it..........and BAM. The rest of my fucking meal tastes like tomato.

Let’s keep in mind fucko's that the recurring theme when I go out to eat is this. I'M FUCKING HUNGRY. So when you decide to fuck up my ORDER (which results in it taking an hour to eat it) I get pissed. When I decide to pay 20 times more for something that I could have made myself, I expect it to be right. If I didn't I would had my girlfriend make it. For less.


Why is this so important? Because I'm sick of feeling like an asshole for asking for shit. THIS IS THE IMPORTANT PART OF THE WHOLE RANT. I'm fucking sick of asking for less shit, and then feeling like an asshole.

Here's a great idea that should be standard operating procedure in every fucking restaurant. Since the meal that I just ordered (yes the same one that will make me actually pee out of my anus tomorrow morning) cost me way too much (on what planet does a cheeseburger cost 8 fucking dollars) because it comes with all this shit on top of it….take money off of my bill when I don’t want items on there. Fucking revolutionary! From now on, the whole menu is ala carte.

No Tomatoes------------Fuck it 50 cents off

No Onions---------------Jesus there goes two bits

No Salsa-----------------You can certainly put a price on that, 10 cents off.

Don't want your buns toasted------- subtract a quarter

I don't want peppers on my pizza---- Hooray; you just saved a buck fifty.

Say what? You prefer no mayo?------ Hey buddy. You just saved 35 cents.

What I mean is that when I look at your menu, you are chargin me an extra dollar for another slice of cheese, and if I want bacon you're going to charge me a dollar fifty extra on the cheeseburger, the cost of the fucking thing just went from seven dollars to nine fifty not including tax and tip.

Why can’t you charge me less for shit I do not want...?

Finally….and remember this part when my whole dining experience goes badly.

Not only do you NOT get a tip for what just transpired, but I will look you straight in the eyes and tell you in a calm tone that you are not getting a tip, and that I don’t care if you make less than minimum wage, and that you shouldn't be allowed to work as an assistant crack whore in central Detroit.......and I hope, ironically that the children I know you have are now going to starve to death because of my lack of gratuity. Fuckface.

Now, I hope I never see you again..and more importantly I'm glad that I held my composure long enough so you wouldn't spit in my food.