Tweet
Bash Goods Auto Fight
PSI Defend Run Away
Hauntedheadnc is sizing up the situation...
PregnantPagan is sizing up the situation...
ArtistWearingLabradorite is sizing up the situation...
MovedtoFL is sizing up the situation...
Vicious Hag called for help. Vicious Hag B joined the fight!
Vicious Hag B attacked with Public Humiliation!
50 HP of damage to Waitress!
Waitress tried Explanation.
0 HP of damage to Vicious Hag B.
Vicious Hag B attacked with Public Humiliation!
44 HP of damage to Waitress!
And so on.
Now, to explain that little trip down the Super NES memory lane. (Empty promises of cookies to whoever remembers the game whose fight sequences I just plagiarized.)
For lunch yesterday some friends of mine and I went out for sushi, only to have a pair of vicious hags be seated in the next booth down the line from us. Our first inkling that there might be trouble was when Vicious Hag A, who was slightly younger, picked out something and then began to modify it because she was vegan. It's one thing to be vegan, mind you, but it's another entirely to pick out an entree and then warp it to your own preferences until it has mutated into something that bears next to no resemblance to the entree it started out as. Also, it's kind of stupid to go as a vegan to a restaurant that specializes in doing interesting and exotic things to bits of dead fish, but that's beside the point.
The waitress was running herself ragged. She had tables and booths, including one big table with about eight people at it, scattered around the restaurant. And mind you, it's a sushi restaurant, which means that half the staff speaks English with a thick accent if they speak it at all, and the people eating are savvy about their sushi choices and are making minor changes to this or that while spouting orders that switch between English and Japanese as though they're flailing helpless against an attack of Tourette's. This is not a good atmosphere in which to spend one's first day at a waitressing job.
And we know it was her first day because of what happened next.
Yes, she was slow. Yes, she was forgetting things. However, when Vicious Hag B, who was older and had bags under her eyes that would make a baggage handler swoon, hauled herself to her arthritic feet and hobbled over to the waitress to complain, she did not handle it as a normal person would have. A normal person would have heard out the waitress' explanation that it was her first day, and then said something along the lines of, "I understand and I'm sorry you're having a frustrating day, but we are in a hurry. If you could bring us our salad and entrees as soon as possible, I'd appreciate it very much."
What Vicious Hag B said instead was, "If you don't speed it up, you won't have a job much longer."
This caused the waitress to deliver a run-by salad to the hags. She sprinted past their table and dropped it off, then ran away, looking as though she was about to burst into tears.
The hags were not impressed and continued to complain to each other.
This caused the four of us to burst into the Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy song, perhaps in an attempt to cheer up the hags, or perhaps just to point out to them that we thought they were soured old bitches.
The hags were not impressed with that either.
Not long afterward, Vicious Hag A went to the bathroom, and in her absence an entree arrived. Vicious Hag B went apoplectic, because she noted that it contained animal byproducts. Sinful! Abominable! This isn't what she wanted, so you'll take it back right now! What if Vicious Hag A were to come back and see that?! What's wrong with you?!
And off the waitress went again, looking dejected at her mistake, and by now ArtistWearingLabradorite and MovedtoFL were so disgusted with the hags that they went outside to smoke a cigarette just to get away from them.
PregnantPagan and I continued sizing up the situation.
The complaints continued in between snatches of conversation that seemed to be about brunch at a large luxury hotel elsewhere in town and a dentist's appointment.
My friends returned, noticed that the complaints were still going on, and at this point I cupped my hands to throw my voice and said as though continuing a pleasant conversation with my friends, "I just don't see what all the complaining is about. I mean, it takes time to learn a job. It's not as though waitresses spring fully-trained from the forehead of Zeus, you know. Perhaps they should cut her some slack. Since she's new and all. You know?"
The hags either didn't hear, or ignored us, and it was time for us to leave. We encountered (perhaps you could say we engaged) the waitress by the doors and we all expressed our sympathy that on her first day she would be cursed with hags. ArtistWearingLabradorite handed her a few dollars and said that she knew the hags wouldn't be leaving a tip and she hoped this would make her day a little better. We all told her to hang in there because we'd all been in her shoes.
But what else should we or I have done? You can go back to tell someone that they're a cankerous bitch, but then what? I kept waiting for the staircase wit to kick in, but it never did and still hasn't the morning after all of this. I can't shake the feeling that I should have said something to the hags themselves, hopefully something that would have made them feel as ugly as they obviously were inside, or at best something that would have shamed them at least a little.
But nothing ever came to mind. Still hasn't, like I said, although when I told my mother about all of this, she immediately laid out a ream of things she would have said. It was a verbal flare of God's own fury, too, which would have reduced every hag in a fifty foot radius to a grease stain on the floor.
And why couldn't all of that have come to me right then and there, instead?
PSI Defend Run Away
Hauntedheadnc is sizing up the situation...
PregnantPagan is sizing up the situation...
ArtistWearingLabradorite is sizing up the situation...
MovedtoFL is sizing up the situation...
Vicious Hag called for help. Vicious Hag B joined the fight!
Vicious Hag B attacked with Public Humiliation!
50 HP of damage to Waitress!
Waitress tried Explanation.
0 HP of damage to Vicious Hag B.
Vicious Hag B attacked with Public Humiliation!
44 HP of damage to Waitress!
And so on.
Now, to explain that little trip down the Super NES memory lane. (Empty promises of cookies to whoever remembers the game whose fight sequences I just plagiarized.)
For lunch yesterday some friends of mine and I went out for sushi, only to have a pair of vicious hags be seated in the next booth down the line from us. Our first inkling that there might be trouble was when Vicious Hag A, who was slightly younger, picked out something and then began to modify it because she was vegan. It's one thing to be vegan, mind you, but it's another entirely to pick out an entree and then warp it to your own preferences until it has mutated into something that bears next to no resemblance to the entree it started out as. Also, it's kind of stupid to go as a vegan to a restaurant that specializes in doing interesting and exotic things to bits of dead fish, but that's beside the point.
The waitress was running herself ragged. She had tables and booths, including one big table with about eight people at it, scattered around the restaurant. And mind you, it's a sushi restaurant, which means that half the staff speaks English with a thick accent if they speak it at all, and the people eating are savvy about their sushi choices and are making minor changes to this or that while spouting orders that switch between English and Japanese as though they're flailing helpless against an attack of Tourette's. This is not a good atmosphere in which to spend one's first day at a waitressing job.
And we know it was her first day because of what happened next.
Yes, she was slow. Yes, she was forgetting things. However, when Vicious Hag B, who was older and had bags under her eyes that would make a baggage handler swoon, hauled herself to her arthritic feet and hobbled over to the waitress to complain, she did not handle it as a normal person would have. A normal person would have heard out the waitress' explanation that it was her first day, and then said something along the lines of, "I understand and I'm sorry you're having a frustrating day, but we are in a hurry. If you could bring us our salad and entrees as soon as possible, I'd appreciate it very much."
What Vicious Hag B said instead was, "If you don't speed it up, you won't have a job much longer."
This caused the waitress to deliver a run-by salad to the hags. She sprinted past their table and dropped it off, then ran away, looking as though she was about to burst into tears.
The hags were not impressed and continued to complain to each other.
This caused the four of us to burst into the Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy song, perhaps in an attempt to cheer up the hags, or perhaps just to point out to them that we thought they were soured old bitches.
The hags were not impressed with that either.
Not long afterward, Vicious Hag A went to the bathroom, and in her absence an entree arrived. Vicious Hag B went apoplectic, because she noted that it contained animal byproducts. Sinful! Abominable! This isn't what she wanted, so you'll take it back right now! What if Vicious Hag A were to come back and see that?! What's wrong with you?!
And off the waitress went again, looking dejected at her mistake, and by now ArtistWearingLabradorite and MovedtoFL were so disgusted with the hags that they went outside to smoke a cigarette just to get away from them.
PregnantPagan and I continued sizing up the situation.
The complaints continued in between snatches of conversation that seemed to be about brunch at a large luxury hotel elsewhere in town and a dentist's appointment.
My friends returned, noticed that the complaints were still going on, and at this point I cupped my hands to throw my voice and said as though continuing a pleasant conversation with my friends, "I just don't see what all the complaining is about. I mean, it takes time to learn a job. It's not as though waitresses spring fully-trained from the forehead of Zeus, you know. Perhaps they should cut her some slack. Since she's new and all. You know?"
The hags either didn't hear, or ignored us, and it was time for us to leave. We encountered (perhaps you could say we engaged) the waitress by the doors and we all expressed our sympathy that on her first day she would be cursed with hags. ArtistWearingLabradorite handed her a few dollars and said that she knew the hags wouldn't be leaving a tip and she hoped this would make her day a little better. We all told her to hang in there because we'd all been in her shoes.
But what else should we or I have done? You can go back to tell someone that they're a cankerous bitch, but then what? I kept waiting for the staircase wit to kick in, but it never did and still hasn't the morning after all of this. I can't shake the feeling that I should have said something to the hags themselves, hopefully something that would have made them feel as ugly as they obviously were inside, or at best something that would have shamed them at least a little.
But nothing ever came to mind. Still hasn't, like I said, although when I told my mother about all of this, she immediately laid out a ream of things she would have said. It was a verbal flare of God's own fury, too, which would have reduced every hag in a fifty foot radius to a grease stain on the floor.
And why couldn't all of that have come to me right then and there, instead?
Comment