the degree to which a lot of people apparently rely on patronizing restaurants as a form of identity maintenance has retroactively made my worst experiences working in food-service understandable

My apologies to those I served and bussed at Lynn’s Paradise Cafe and Dinosaur BBQ, I though you were just there to get BLT Home Fries and a Derby Day mimosa but apparently you were enacting some sort of horrific psychodrama without which you would become completely unmoored

My name is Dave N. Buster and if I cant tell a waitress that pepsi is not okay every thirty six hours I am going to eat my own hands

Im legitimately wondering if a big part of America’s march to fascism is tipping culture

I’m always really worried about coming off as like a married guy who “slyly” mentions being horny or sex or whatever all the time - on here and in real life - and a huge part of that came from working at a restaurant and seeing men hit on waitresses in front of their families

just like - weird corny half-joke come-ons, while their wives smiled and their kids rolled their eyes, with the understanding that their target could never tell them to go fuck off because then they wouldn’t get tipped

Not to mention talking to people who were actually groped by male customers, in front of their families.