please sir, may i have another?
People of all sorts come into Subway, and that was grossly proven by today's pigs-at-the-trough menagerie of anthropomorphic twats.
We get most of our assholes during the lunch rush. One in particular was a trailer woman of the super-sized variety, thick white baby doll tee clinging to every massive, rippling roll on her person. I asked her if she wanted cheese, and I gave her the choices. "The white kind," she pressed. I glanced over. Next to her stood a very patient black man.
"Uh," I replied, gesturing to the very-visible Cambro. "They're all white. Again. Would you like American, Swiss, or Provolone?"
The heifer looked directly at the man standing next to her, gave him a slight scowl, then turned back to me with a shit-eating grin and a syrupy voice to match: "I'll have the white American."
At this point, the man next to her shook his head.
So I gave Ms Hitler her cheese, finished her sandwich (made with white bread, of course) and rang her up. Then Madame Stay-Puft expresses her desire to obtain some cookies. Fine. "What kind of cookies, ma'am?"
She gives the man standing next to her another look. Then, of course, she turns back to me and smiles. "I'll have white chocolate macadamia nut, please."
At this point, I was hoping the black dude has a bad temper, because I would've loved to see this clown get the gristle kicked out of her in the parking lot. Instead, however, it just looks like he's about to piss himself laughing. We exchange a glance, and I turn back to the woman (also, at this point, suppressing my bladder). And, of course, give her the cookies in solemn hopes that one of them will be the final gram of fat that gives her a heart attack.
Upon retrospect, I wish our conversation would have went something like this:
"I'll have white chocolate macadamia nut."
"Are you sure you wouldn't like some double chocolate NIGGA COOKIES? Maybe some oatmeal racist - aha, WHOOPS. I mean, raisin. Of course."
Instead, she leaves all high-and-mighty, and it takes the entire lunch staff to plunge the fucktard through the doorway.*
Also, I had a Very Plastic** Experience after the lunch rush. Two teenaged slutbeasts left the register with their diet swill at approximately two o'clock in the afternoon. At this precise time, I was around (but not in the direct pathway of) the door, sweeping up the crumbs that tend to fall from the hands and mouth of every single consumer. One of the bitchlings kicked the dustpan over with her ZOMG HUGE HONKING MANFOOT***. "Excuse you," I snapped.
She turned to me with a delicate giggle and shat fairy dust all over the floor.
Actually, she did giggle, but the only thing that spat forth from her body was an airy "Oops!" that fell from her face, after which she flounced off, STDs and all, with her ego-masturbatory vomit buddy.
Indifferent to the store's security cameras, I grinned at them and lifted my middle finger with a maniacal glee. They looked so offended. I was very pleased.
Now. WHO WANTS A FUCKING SANDWICH?! :D
---
* Creative exaggeration, but trust me - not by much.
** Mean Girls ref. Nigga cookies to anyone who got it.
*** Sorry. Couldn't resist.
We get most of our assholes during the lunch rush. One in particular was a trailer woman of the super-sized variety, thick white baby doll tee clinging to every massive, rippling roll on her person. I asked her if she wanted cheese, and I gave her the choices. "The white kind," she pressed. I glanced over. Next to her stood a very patient black man.
"Uh," I replied, gesturing to the very-visible Cambro. "They're all white. Again. Would you like American, Swiss, or Provolone?"
The heifer looked directly at the man standing next to her, gave him a slight scowl, then turned back to me with a shit-eating grin and a syrupy voice to match: "I'll have the white American."
At this point, the man next to her shook his head.
So I gave Ms Hitler her cheese, finished her sandwich (made with white bread, of course) and rang her up. Then Madame Stay-Puft expresses her desire to obtain some cookies. Fine. "What kind of cookies, ma'am?"
She gives the man standing next to her another look. Then, of course, she turns back to me and smiles. "I'll have white chocolate macadamia nut, please."
At this point, I was hoping the black dude has a bad temper, because I would've loved to see this clown get the gristle kicked out of her in the parking lot. Instead, however, it just looks like he's about to piss himself laughing. We exchange a glance, and I turn back to the woman (also, at this point, suppressing my bladder). And, of course, give her the cookies in solemn hopes that one of them will be the final gram of fat that gives her a heart attack.
Upon retrospect, I wish our conversation would have went something like this:
"I'll have white chocolate macadamia nut."
"Are you sure you wouldn't like some double chocolate NIGGA COOKIES? Maybe some oatmeal racist - aha, WHOOPS. I mean, raisin. Of course."
Instead, she leaves all high-and-mighty, and it takes the entire lunch staff to plunge the fucktard through the doorway.*
Also, I had a Very Plastic** Experience after the lunch rush. Two teenaged slutbeasts left the register with their diet swill at approximately two o'clock in the afternoon. At this precise time, I was around (but not in the direct pathway of) the door, sweeping up the crumbs that tend to fall from the hands and mouth of every single consumer. One of the bitchlings kicked the dustpan over with her ZOMG HUGE HONKING MANFOOT***. "Excuse you," I snapped.
She turned to me with a delicate giggle and shat fairy dust all over the floor.
Actually, she did giggle, but the only thing that spat forth from her body was an airy "Oops!" that fell from her face, after which she flounced off, STDs and all, with her ego-masturbatory vomit buddy.
Indifferent to the store's security cameras, I grinned at them and lifted my middle finger with a maniacal glee. They looked so offended. I was very pleased.
Now. WHO WANTS A FUCKING SANDWICH?! :D
---
* Creative exaggeration, but trust me - not by much.
** Mean Girls ref. Nigga cookies to anyone who got it.
*** Sorry. Couldn't resist.