look at him now dissapearing the cow
so im in the dish pit at work, scraping the caked on cheese off of some overweight redneck idiot's plate of nachos. I'm about to go back and try to pitch him a dessert that we both know he doesnt need, but will probably order anyway, as he will never reach his goal of 40000 pounds if he doesnt get a hot fudge brownie in a 32 oz margarita glass at every opportunity.
Thats when i notice the lights flicker a bit and the kitchen gets very quiet. Odd, usually the kitchen is full of the loud hum of a dishwasher, and the exhaust fans that suck the horrible life ending toxic cloud of death that the grills produce up into the sky where they convert it into rainbows and happy thoughts, or whatever it is they do with it. In a matter of about 5 minutes the entire kitchen is full of smoke. Keep in mind, this isnt your typical campfire type smoke, it is the smoke created by charring dead animals on a grill, and dropping them in a vat of boiling grease. It has the lovely aroma of soy milk, if you leave it in a jar in the gobi desert for a few days, then mix it with a grandma.
I then had to notify my rotund redneck friend that dessert just wasnt in the cards for him. I think that as the words left my mouth, i could hear his heart break. It was like i had told him that he had just won the lottery, then shortly after informed him that no, he did not win the lottery, but instead a panel of his peers voted, and unanimously agreed that he sucked at life, and should really consider moving to a poor 3rd world country where he could be hunted like some sort of strange cow. a strange cow that was a huge dale earnhardt jr fan. Nothing at all out of the ordinary about that. Moving along.
I also had to let my other tables know that all the delicious food they had just waited an hour and a half to order would not take the standard time to incorrectly cook, put on a plate that is probably 1-2 degrees shy of the surface temperature of the sun, so when i go and pick it up, my flesh instantly fuses to it. who needs fingerprints anyway?
The food, sadly, was not coming. Visions of bacon cheeseburgers, co-existing on a plate with french fries dancing in the sky with fajitas were crushed. I'm sorry ma'am, your house salad with no olives or onions, add cheese, bacon, egg, turkey and chicken is not going to happen. You just cant have it. Why? they ask. The simple answer is that god, with his infinite wisdom, compassion, and love for the human race actually just hates them. nobody else, just them. he's up in heaven getting a good chuckle, while they are wrapped in the mild inconvenience of having to go somewhere else to eat.
Such a cruel world we live in, but such is life. The more complex reason for my flock of poor innocents, wanting nothing more than a simple meal being denied, had more to do with the transformers. Optimus prime, really. he's such pompous asshole. Oh wait, no, i mean the other transformers. the ones that powered the destin commons. What was it they did again? i always forget this part. OH yeah, exploded. they were like "you know what, we're tired of doing whatever it is a transformer does, so we're just going to explode k? peace" and thats exactly what they did. So the restaurant had to pretty much just shut down, all the servers had to give all the cash we recieved for the day to the managers, as the computerized system for keeping track of how much cash we owed was not working. lovely.
So i worked all day and walked home empty handed. Well, not entirely empty handed, i stopped in books a million and andy hooked me up with a delicious coffee drink thing that tasted good. While i was walking out, i saw my good friend the 500 pound redneck, and he was looking at a book on gardening. For some reason that really amused me, because the only form of gardening this man could do is destroying gardens by crushing them, or possibly uprooting anything that resembled food, and devouring it in an animalistic fashion.