I’m Pro-Not Telling Anyone Anything Ever Again. How About That?
What is it about people that make them want to know the personal, spiritual and political beliefs about the people carrying out their Mello Yello? When I go to McDonalds, I don’t answer the frickin’ dude behind the counter’s question of “Do you want fries with that?” with “Do you think Social Security should be privatized?” Or “How about a nice, hot apple pie?” with “What’s your position on gay marriage?”
Customers, I’m in your lives a good hour a month. The guy you sit next to on the bus for work probably knows more about you than I do. So then why do you have to know things about me? In can only lead to trouble when you ask your server a personal question and he (dimwittingly) answers with a personal response.
Case in point: Tonight, I was serving a table of overweight and obnoxiously loud women that I could only guess were mothers. Why did I make that assumption? Because they 1) ordered every drink with a “water, no ice, lots of lemon” and 2) were overweight and obnoxiously loud women. Everyone knows that when you give birth, your hearing deteriorates slightly and you are prone to be “obnoxiously loud” relative to everyone else in the room.
That and they were getting hammered and the only thing I can think of that would cause me to get hammered in a restaurant is the thought that I have screaming, bratty kids to go back to in a couple of hours. Thank God for American Idol.
Anyways, so I’m serving the women, and the supposed “alpha female” of the group, Rita, drunkenly asked me “what [my] stance on abortion is”.
Only alcohol can give women the balls to ask a total stranger this ridiculous a question.
So I answer because I’m bored and like conversation. That and I’m retarded.
I’m not going to tell you my answer. Nor am I going to tell you the positive and/or negative reactions the drunken moms at the table gave me. Frankly, I could care less whether or not they agree or disagree with me.
What I am going to do is implore every reader out there that when they go to a restaurant, to not ask their server stupid crap like “What’s your stance on abortion?”
They have Mello Yellos to bring you and your obnoxiously loud family.
January 3rd, 2007 at 9:06
Should have said “I’m sorry we don’t serve fetus here.”
Mello Yello rules them all.
January 3rd, 2007 at 8:15
oh come on…tell us
January 3rd, 2007 at 10:30
so, you aren’t smart enough to dodge out of a loaded question from people who you expect to give you a gift of money for doing your job, but at the same time you are too afraid to stand up for what you think on your own personal website?
very nice.
January 3rd, 2007 at 11:00
Jacob, if Ryan doesn’t wish to discuss a topic like this with those that read his website that’s his choice. It’s not fear.
January 4th, 2007 at 4:34
Yeah, that kind of sucks. I hope you offended them, whatever your answer was.
And it’s weird, even though I know your political views, I’m not really sure if I know your stance on abortion. Reading this website has really made me realize how open minded (and hilarious) you are, even though you like Bush. So keep it up.
January 4th, 2007 at 5:44
It’s not a question of intelligence that made me answer. It’s just that I answered.
And I really don’t think anyone cares either way my personal opinion on the destruction of fetus’/feti. People that want to know have asked my opinion, but the majority of readers just want stories about me serving idiots. If you want to know, just ask. Don’t be a prick.
January 4th, 2007 at 6:11
I don’t think there is a “right” answer in that situation. Except maybe a “Well, I’d certainly never have one” a smile to let them know how inappropriate the question was, and walking away. Honestly, it sounds like they were just looking to pick a fight, because that is not my idea of a cheerful dinner conversation.
April 17th, 2007 at 9:57
[…] don’t even have to say anything. I could wear a ring with a cross on it and some feminist women could get the idea that in my spare time I like blowing up abortion clinics. Don’t believe me? Then you’ve never been a […]
November 10th, 2007 at 2:24
my mother was a bartender for years, and at a very very young age she told me “neither the bar or the diner table are places for talk of politics or religon” i think its the first thing she taught me really… except to tip well