It's been a while since I've last posted, mainly due to writers block. There are so many ideas running through my mind, and I can't decide which one to write.
I finally decided to share with you another white trash story. I'm in the Midwest, so you can bet your ass that there's a wiiiiiiide variety of different types of white trash (there are many different types, but that's another entry).
They seemed normal enough. Fat white mom, trashy kid, and I think there was a husband..or some sort of guy. I don't know. I've tried to forget this memory, but like herpes, it keeps coming back to me.
Their meal went innocently enough. We gave each other shit, joked around, talked about the weather and some current TV shows. They were hilarious. When they asked, I dropped off their check, and chuckled to myself. I worried that I had made an error in judgement about the type of people they were…but that thought was short lived.
I'm standing at the server station, putting in my credit card tips into the POS (funny thing- it's actually called a POS. The name serves it well), when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around, and it's the fat lady, holding out her receipt, and it's obvious that she wants to pay. I'm in the middle of saying "I'll be right th--", when she reaches her hand down the front of her shirt…into her bra…and pulls out a wad of money. She counts it out, and hands me the wrinkled bills. Oh, and they were wet.
The look on my face was probably priceless. I don't remember if I stood there in shock, but I'm pretty sure I recall her saying to keep the change. After I realized that I was holding sweaty boob money, I ran to the cashier's register, and switched out the money, and stayed away from getting change from them for the rest of the night.
I washed my hands profusely after that; however, my soul will forever be tainted.
Wet money is one of the most revolting things on this earth. We all know dirty money is, containing anything and everything, such as blood, fecal matter, urine, cocaine, and probably ebola. Why would you want that anywhere near your body? Also, why carry it in your bra, of all places? Why not pockets? Purse? Clutch? Jesus, give it to someone else who you're with, instead of traumatizing your poor server.
The lady had balls of steel for doing that in front of me, though. If she would've done it at the table and I never knew, I would be a much happier person. Thanks for ruining my life, lady.
Word to the wise: do not keep money in any crevices (everyone who knows me know how hard it was for me to type that vile word) that you wouldn't want people touching. This includes inside your goddamn bra.
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