You All Need to Know the Truth. . .

Your server hates you.  It's true, when you and your family go out to eat, chances are very good that your server not only doesn't care about you at all, but he probably hates you.  You are not a special and unique person.  You are a cover.  You represent my power bill, my rent, a thirty pack, anything that I can spend your money on after I escape from the restaurant.  

Throughout the course of this blog, which I will write until I either lose interest or my identity is revealed and my boss tells me to take this down before I get myself in some real trouble, I will regale you, my nonexistent readers with tales of the stupid shit that people do when they go out to eat. The booze just isn't cutting it anymore.  I need something else to hold down these terrible feelings of murderous rage.  So you, my loyal reader, will be able to join in my cathartic outpouring of hate and bile.  I welcome all my fellow service industry colleagues to send me their own stories which I will turn into a post or to just write a post for me.

Until next time. . .