One thing, in particular, that I do not miss about serving: shitty children.
Like I've said in a previous entry, I love children. I plan on having 9 of them, and making some sort of sports team. Or, I could have 12 spawns, get my own TV show, and be known as the "angry nerd mom". Sounds good to me.
However, my children will not be the result of that scary ginger kid from Problem Child and Satan. There have been times when I watched a table with children be sat in my section, and I silently asked whatever supreme being was listening that day, "why? Am I being tested? Did I do something horrible in a past life to deserve this?" I sucked it up, and walked up to the table, as my hopes and dreams shriveled up and died within my soul.
This table that sticks out in my mind was a mother with two young boys. From the first glance, they looked okay. The mother looked tired, which is understandable. Young boys can be a pain in the ass. From the moment those little brats opened their mouths and barked out their order, I immediately understood the look in her eyes. It wasn't fatigue; it was desperation.
The two ankle biters ordered their food, and I hurriedly put it in. The faster I would put it in, the faster it would come out, and the faster they would be out of my section.
But, as my luck would have it, we got a rush. My section quickly filled up, and I was too busy (thankfully) to be annoyed by the two monsters. Their food comes up, and I run it out. It had been about ten, maybe twelve minutes. As I run to the table and start handing out the food, the younger one rolls his eyes. "Finally," he huffed. I paused for a millisecond and attempted to bore a hole in his forehead with my glare. Unfortunately, my mana must have been low that day, and I failed.
As much as I would've loved to stay at the table and be verbally abused by two boys under the age of 12, I rushed off and found something to do, which ended up being standing in the back telling my co-workers of the spawns.
Eventually, I realized that I should mosey on back to the table. The oldest one was laying on his back on the booth seat, kicking it. Thanks, jerk off. I'm the one who gets to scrub your grody little shoe prints off later, and God knows what is lurking on the soles of your shoes. The mom sat there, doing nothing.
Honestly women, here's the deal. You lug around the parasite within you for nine months, you squirt the kid out (or have it removed like a tumor), and you are responsible for molding said child into a responsible child, and then adult. By letting the television and 360 (if the kid has good taste) babysit him, your children will turn out to be little jerks. If I mouthed off to any adult when I was their age, I would've gotten the infamous "bathroom talk" (assuming we were in public). Trust me, those were never a good thing.
However, I feel as if this lady was in a daze. She shot me so many apologetic glances, which I appreciated. However, puppy dog eyes will not lower my blood pressure. You telling your kids to shut the hell up, will.
She left a huge tip, though. I imagine she felt sorry for me. I wish I could've tipped her though; she needed a pick me up. Props to you, lady.
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