A good day, all in all. Not so much SC as Frakking SC to the point of funny. Silly people and their so-called rights of customers. :P
The entertainer!
We're across from a bar. Ever suck your face into a glass as a kid? Ever see a drunk try to do that with a really thin Carlings glass?
Bellyache? Peptol bismol? Tums? For weaklings!
Here we drink solutionized baking soda! Yes, folks! Genius number one tried to drink a drink mixed with baking soda! Pure unadulterated baking soda in a glass of water.
Now, for anyone who has tried this, or tasted baking soda, it is NAAAASTY. (I did the latter.) and this genius? Drank, gagged, manned up and drunk the rest... And then began to paint the nearby garbage can interior green and milky white.
Wherein my tongue rebels against speech!
Me: "Can I help you?"
SC: "Bluwugh? Uuhhhhhhhhhh.... Mrrr.... Mrh mrhm hrm hrm hrm hrm hrm..."
Either this is a new version of Morse Cat that head office wasn't aware of and therefore neglected to give me the manual, or you're drunk off your keister. I'm willing to bet the latter, though I'm still gonna call head office about the translation manual.
What's this about my work choice?
SC: You're just working so you can stare at girls and F**k teenagers, aren't you, you prick!
Seriously, sometimes I think that's what a lot of people are here to do, or at least come here to do, till they realize the fare is akin to beef jerky when they expect Fillet Mignon. I'd rather sleep with a juiced up polecat than tangle with some of my regulars.
Oh, and thanks for the comment. Now filing you with the people who are never going to be served again. Next!
Bwuh?
C: "I need a pack of condoms that speak "Lady killer".
It's called sandpaper, and if you want my advice, try it on yourself first. I hear the 60 grit is really soothing when you tickle your prostate with it.
Speaking of sandpaper...
SC: "I need something abrasive to scratch my tickets with.
Me: "I can lend you a penny-"
SC: "No! Abrasive! A-b-r-a-s-i-v-e. Do you understand english?
What a poignant character. A request to you good sir to stick your rather verbose bonce up a duck's bottom and be on your way? Delightful. Next!
Sightings: The drooler.
Now, we've had a few customers who breathe through their pieholes, but this one takes the proverbial cake. Mouth open like he just saw a nude Judge Judy dancing the can-can and drooling down his front. Not the drip drip drool, but a looooong string of sticky saliva. Slug-worthy here buys scratchtickets and every time he exhales the string vibrates.
eeeeugh. *Wince Wince* Sir, please, your tonsils have aired enough!
That's all for now folks! It was an eventful morning.
The entertainer!
We're across from a bar. Ever suck your face into a glass as a kid? Ever see a drunk try to do that with a really thin Carlings glass?
Bellyache? Peptol bismol? Tums? For weaklings!
Here we drink solutionized baking soda! Yes, folks! Genius number one tried to drink a drink mixed with baking soda! Pure unadulterated baking soda in a glass of water.
Now, for anyone who has tried this, or tasted baking soda, it is NAAAASTY. (I did the latter.) and this genius? Drank, gagged, manned up and drunk the rest... And then began to paint the nearby garbage can interior green and milky white.
Wherein my tongue rebels against speech!
Me: "Can I help you?"
SC: "Bluwugh? Uuhhhhhhhhhh.... Mrrr.... Mrh mrhm hrm hrm hrm hrm hrm..."
Either this is a new version of Morse Cat that head office wasn't aware of and therefore neglected to give me the manual, or you're drunk off your keister. I'm willing to bet the latter, though I'm still gonna call head office about the translation manual.
What's this about my work choice?
SC: You're just working so you can stare at girls and F**k teenagers, aren't you, you prick!
Seriously, sometimes I think that's what a lot of people are here to do, or at least come here to do, till they realize the fare is akin to beef jerky when they expect Fillet Mignon. I'd rather sleep with a juiced up polecat than tangle with some of my regulars.
Oh, and thanks for the comment. Now filing you with the people who are never going to be served again. Next!
Bwuh?
C: "I need a pack of condoms that speak "Lady killer".
It's called sandpaper, and if you want my advice, try it on yourself first. I hear the 60 grit is really soothing when you tickle your prostate with it.
Speaking of sandpaper...
SC: "I need something abrasive to scratch my tickets with.
Me: "I can lend you a penny-"
SC: "No! Abrasive! A-b-r-a-s-i-v-e. Do you understand english?
What a poignant character. A request to you good sir to stick your rather verbose bonce up a duck's bottom and be on your way? Delightful. Next!
Sightings: The drooler.
Now, we've had a few customers who breathe through their pieholes, but this one takes the proverbial cake. Mouth open like he just saw a nude Judge Judy dancing the can-can and drooling down his front. Not the drip drip drool, but a looooong string of sticky saliva. Slug-worthy here buys scratchtickets and every time he exhales the string vibrates.
eeeeugh. *Wince Wince* Sir, please, your tonsils have aired enough!
That's all for now folks! It was an eventful morning.
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