Many years ago, I was an eighteen-year-old waitress at a cafe that was owned and operated by a wonderfully sweet woman who did not suffer fools gladly.
During a hectic lunch rush, I found myself handling most of the restaurant as our other server was out sick. At one table sat two men, well known in the community as local political figures. After I delivered their drinks, one asked for a spoon for his coffee. Concerned with the order waiting in the window, I promised to return with one and headed back to the kitchen.
Obviously, I was too slow in returning for the gentleman, who flagged down the owner from her post at the register.
Man: Irately “Can I get something to stir my coffee with, or do I have to whip out my d**k and use it?!”
Without missing a beat, my sweet Southern boss replied:
Boss: “Oh, you’ll never reach the bottom of the cup with that. I’ll grab you a spoon!”
Forked Around And Found Out
Many years ago, I was an eighteen-year-old waitress at a cafe that was owned and operated by a wonderfully sweet woman who did not suffer fools gladly.
During a hectic lunch rush, I found myself handling most of the restaurant as our other server was out sick. At one table sat two men, well known in the community as local political figures. After I delivered their drinks, one asked for a spoon for his coffee. Concerned with the order waiting in the window, I promised to return with one and headed back to the kitchen.
Obviously, I was too slow in returning for the gentleman, who flagged down the owner from her post at the register.
Man: Irately “Can I get something to stir my coffee with, or do I have to whip out my d**k and use it?!”
Without missing a beat, my sweet Southern boss replied:
Boss: “Oh, you’ll never reach the bottom of the cup with that. I’ll grab you a spoon!”