I was going to write a great post about how for the last week I’ve been giving people who ask for Coke, Diet Coke, and vice versa, but I’ll save that for later. Here’s a post about the type of lady who probably voted to get Hilary the wins in the Texas and Ohio primaries yesterday. Can’t you ladies do ANYTHING right?

Me: “Can I get you something to drink, ma’am?”
Woman 1: “Yes, I’d like an ice water.”
Me: “Alright. I’ll be right out with that.”

(A few seconds later)

Woman 1: “What is this!?”
Me: “Umm…an ice water?”
Woman 2: “Why does it have a lemon in it!?”
Me: “Uh…”
Woman 1: “When I ask for an ICE WATER I don’t expect a LEMON.”
Me: “Sorry, ma’am. I guess it’s just because I’m so used to getting people lemons with their…”
Woman 1: “No excuses.”

Is this frickin’ high school football practice? “No excuses”? What’s next, calling me by last name from across the restaurant? How are you going to get all bent out of shape over a lemon wedge on the edge of your glass of water when that’s how 98% of the rest of the world drinks their water. That’s like asking for a house salad and then throwing a temper tantrum when they put tomatoes in it.

Sorry, ma’am. Next time you come in, I’ll ask if you want silverware with your meal, chicken with your “Chicken Dinner” and a straw with your drink. Screw you and your little fake breasts too.

P.S. Yea, that’s right. We all know your breasts are fake. Don’t flaunt them like they’re your own personal gift from God. Unless, of course, by “God”, you mean a “depressed, middle-aged, sexually frustrated husband who’s married to a frigid woman that snaps at waiters for putting lemons in their waters and whose only source of sexual excitement stems from the half-assed attempts of a plastic surgeon that, by the looks of things, flunked out of medical school twice.”

P.P.S. Go Obama!

Sometimes, I’m the idiot.

Tonight was incredibly fast and as a result, didn’t have time to think before I said or did things. I was acting on pure instinct and ritual, which with someone like me (see: jackass) is not a good thing.

I was sat a couple. The man was a literal dwarf. He stood three feet high and his feet hung off the chair. The only reason I didn’t think he was a child was because he had 1) the diction of a thirty-year old and 2) a beard.

So I’m running around and I notice the guy is running out of Sprite. I sprint through the server’s hallway, get him a Sprite on my way to another table and drop it off. What I said as I dropped off the drink was neither intentional nor in mean spirit, but for some ungodly, unneccessary reason, in my brain of brains, I decided it would be a good idea to tag on a “Here you go, big guy” to the drop-off of the drink.

What in the hell is wrong with me?

I didn’t turn around as I walked away. All I could think was that I had bought at least six or seven one-way tickets to Hell with that little comment and I didn’t even do it on purpose.

For the rest of their time there, I made sure to put that guy’s needs above everyone else’s as I tried to recoup some sort of dignity from calling the ONLY FRICKIN’ LITTLE PERSON I’VE SERVED “big guy”.

There’s a special circle in Hell designed for people like me.

Forgive me if I’m wrong, but when a couple goes out to eat, is it not the man who takes up the check most of the time? I’d give it a 9:1 ratio of dudes paying to dudettes paying. Obviously, the woman I served last night didn’t have her little (yes, very little) head wrapped around that little fact as she complained ad nauseum that I didn’t give her the check.

Her: “Ummm…why did you just assume that HE was going to pay for it?”
Me: “Because guys usually pick up the check.”
Her: “EXCUSE me?”
Me: “Ummm…”
Her: “That is soooo sexist!”
Me: “Well, here you go.”

And then I handed her the check. I went to go pick it up a little bit later, ran the credit card through and put the bill back on the table in front of her. Not a minute later, I saw the GUY signing his name because it was HIS credit card.

What a douchette. She bitches me out over principle and then doesn’t even follow through with it. At least the guy was cool. He gave me a 50% tip and a “Sorry my girlfriend’s a b****” on the bottom of the receipt. So, if anyone knows of a Benjamin B. Rossain with a high-strung-for-absolutely-no-reason girlfriend, give him a high-five for me because he 1) has her for a girlfriend and 2) frickin’ deserves it.

Before I begin, did I just put “black people” and “whipping boy” in the same sentence?

Anyway, I’m just wondering why when someone says “bad tippers” their thoughts immediately turn to “black person”? Is it because there’s simply more blacks than in any other restaurant-going minority, thereby more examples to reinforce this stereotype? Is it because whites make up the largest ethnic group in America that it’s easier to compare blacks and whites? Is it something deeper? I really don’t know.

I know that in most of my articles (especially the one where I called out every demographic’s frickin’ downfall) I’ve tried to paint a fair picture. I call out old people who can’t tip. I call out rednecks who can’t tip. I call out finicky asians who can’t tip. I call out teenagers who can’t tip.

But I say the same thing about blacks and the debate gets heated.

I’ve read around and whenever I post an article that involves a black family not tipping well, it’s lauded and supported with emails and comments as “truth”. But when I rail a family of rednecks, bros who listen to way too much Dave Matthews, or teenagers who wouldn’t know good music if it came up and sang “Golden Slumbers” right in front of their face, it gets quiet. No comments. No discussions. No debate. No nothing.

What is it with us? Do we so crave the black vs. white thing so much that we will ignore idiot-bashing until it’s about black people?

I’ve written almost five times as many articles poking fun at white yuppie soccer moms who wouldn’t know how to fill their Hummer with gas if their life depended on it and yet I have TEN TIMES as many comments on the articles bashing idiots who are black.

I even called a 14-year-old girl hot. Two comments. Accidental pedophilia, people!

The title of the website is I Serve Idiots. Not “I Serve Black Idiots”. Not “Black People Tip Terribly”. This is a place where we can come together as a community of people who hate idiots and…well…hate idiots. Regardless of class, gender, race, economic level, etc…

Please, guys. Tell me what’s up. Help me gain some perspective. I’m begging y’all.