Now don’t go spreading this around town, but typically I am not nearly as big of a bitch as I appear on the Internets. I know, right? As such, until I have labeled you a dick, I’m going to be nice to you. Unless you’re holding hands walking down the street. For some reason this drives me crazy. How is that an effective way of walking? It’s ridiculous and I’ve been noticing it more and more around RVA. So please, cut it out. But I digress. I am especially nice to those working any type of service industry job. Their jobs blow shit. I know this because I have worked them and any time a person thinks they have a modicum of control, they’ll exert their “power” in the most dick way possible.
Fast forward to today. After a glorious bike ride I decided that TLW deserved herself a Stuffy’s Sub. I heart Stuffy’s. It’s the shit. End of discussion. Anywhoos, so I’m patiently waiting in line and absorbed in losing my most recent Words With Friends game when I look up and hear a man barking orders at the poor kid behind the counter. “Double up on the tomatoes!” “More spices!” “Pickle Spear!” “Why is this taking SO LONG?!” At first I thought that this must be some kind of joke because no one is this big of an asshole, right?
After taking what seemed like an eternity to get his precious order correct, the kid had the unfortunate task of informing him that pickles were, wait for it, 25 cents extra. You would have thought he told him he got a blowie from his equally irritating wife the way he reacted. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN PICKLES ARE EXTRA?! I’VE NEVER HEARD OF ANYTHING SO RIDICULOUS IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!” Resisting the urge to jump in with a, “Oh really? How about George W. Bush wining the presidential election-TWICE?” I continued to look at the scene unfolding before me. Deciding the pickles were worth the extra fifty cents he decided to extract change from his pocket and toss it forcefully on the counter. “Just ridiculous!” he added one last time before attempting to walk away.
Unable to control myself any longer I finally said, “You know what, sir? You’re a real dick, you know that?” He just stared at me unable to comprehend what I had said. “Well, uh…yeah..I mean…uh..yeah”, he mumbled. “Yep, a real Grade A asshole. Excuse me, I need to pay”. Then I looked at the poor cashier and said, “Sorry, people can be such jerkoffs.” I’m not sure why I decided to chime in. Maybe it was because of the whiskey I had the night prior. Maybe it was because, having worked at that same Stuffy’s from the ages of 16-22, I dealt with similar situations and hadn’t been able to say what I was thinking at the time. Either way, it felt real nice. Happy Sunday everybody!