America, land of hypocrisy.

I was working last Saturday (as I do every Saturday) when a woman entered Cheddar's saying she left her wallet there. When her waiter told her he never saw a wallet, she accused him of stealing. WOOT, wild accusations. Obviously, he denied it (he didn't steal it), to which she then replied "Either you stole it, or the bussers did." Awesome. Being one of said bussers, I was now being accused by some coked out lady (not really) that I'm a thief. She mentioned that she had $200 in her wallet, and that we bussers stole it. Now, upon writing this, I realize she blaimed both of us bussers, which doesn't make sense. We're both in pretty good shape, so I'd imagine the wallet could not possibly have been heavy enough to require teamwork to steal. But this is where it gets interesting. The manager then takes us into the back for a brief moment, "I'm just doing this to humor the woman. Either of you see a wallet?" "Nope" "Didn't think so." So he goes back up to Coked-Out-Lady and explains to her that he's been working with [me and joe] since October (I've been there since November, but he (Manager) started after I) and that he's never had a complaint from a customer towards us (true) and that he's never had a problem with us stealing from anyone (also true). She yelled at him for making excuses. Then demanded that he strip search us. This is where hypocrisy comes in. We, as Americans, are not very modest people. However, dignity is something of a must. Dancing naked on a bar? Totally acceptable, as long as you're a stripper or you're drunk. Being asked to strip? Completely offensive. Even a hooker would be offended if asked to take her clothes off in public (assuming she was off duty :). And Coked-Out-Lady would probably throw down and fist fight if asked to remove her shirt at an airport. However, she assumes herself to be mighty enough that she can simply march in to, oh, let's say a restaurant, and demand employees to infringe upon the human rights of other employees. Needless to say, our manager politely explained to her to fuck off. The lesson here: use the magic word. I would have given a private viewing if she had only said please first. (That's a partial lie. She was fugly. I have standards.*)

*Jessica not withstanding.

It's not that I'm a bad writer....

Upon reading my posts, I realized that the sentences are short, to the point, and not very... Well, fluffed up. Such as in a story, the abundance of adjectives is really what makes the book big. Imagine taking all the descriptive parts of a book out. LAME. But anyway. The reasoning behind my short, abrupt writing style is this: It's my thinking style. Quick one-liners in succession is how I go through just about anything. "Why are they called love seats? They really shouldn't be...." is an example. Another example, "What do I want for dinner? Eggs? Got it." That's how I roll.

Why are they called "Love Seats"?

It doesn't really make any sense. It's just a smaller couch. Most people would defend it by saying "Well, it's meant for two people," but that doesn't make it a love seat. Three people can sit on it. And, shockingly, two people can sit on a couch. Imagine having sex on a love seat. It'd be hard. Your neck would be bent at an awkward angle. Couches are better for love. I demand a name change.

Welcome?

Anyone visiting this here blog already knows who I am. In fact, I probably gave you the link. However, given my lack of time spent with people other than J Brown very busy lifestyle, I have limited time to communicate with the world. So here you are. This is also easier for everyone, as they don't have to listen to me talk. We all know that's painful. Anywho, welcome to my blog. We'll see how interesting I can make it. If you find my thoughts half as interesting as I do... Well. You have problems.