On this evenings edition of Musings of an Angsty Server... While Im sure you lack the modicum of self awareness required to recognize this, your histrionic convulsions bear a more striking resemblance to Groucho Marx than Queen Bey. Save the twerking for moments when the waitress directly adjacent to you isnt precariously balancing a tray of drinks. And while you are undoubtedly convinced that whatever vapid interjections about to issue inexorably forth from your unfettered lips are of dire importance, interrupting another customer mid-sentence is egregiously rude. Your thoughts are no more valuable than anyone elses. Also; your flagrant, small-of-the-back grapplings are a transparent violation of my personal space. You are not entitled to touch my body. If you have personally committed any of the aforementioned sins, I beseech you to remedy accordingly... Lest my opinion of the human race be irrevocably marred.
Posted on: Fri, 14 Nov 2014 05:47:26 +0000
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