Every now and again, I’m going to bring back an older post that many of you frequenting my site may not have had the opportunity to read. Here is one of them now:

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.

This entry was posted on Monday, May 14th, 2007 at 12:33 and is filed under Girls, Moms, Stuck Up Yuppies. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.