So Justin Trousersnake (although Britney claimed otherwise) has been screwing the crew, not literally of course. Mr Tiddlerdick cheated his restaurant staff out of their tips and failed to pay overtime at his Southern Hospitality BBQ restaurant in Manhattan, allegedly. Including the word allegedly means he cant sue me right? Southern Hospitality eh? If that's his idea of hospitality then I would hate to be on the end of his hostility.
Any hoo a waiter, Felipe Ramales, has decided that enough is enough and has filed a lawsuit on behalf of fifty of his work chums to reclaim the allegedly misappropriated money. Justified? Probably. Cry me a River Justin you massive douche. Huzzah for Mr Ramales, I hope he and his fifty waiter chums get all that is owed to them and more again on top of that.
"Mr Waiter", called la douche grande. Mr Waiter? What am I, a Roger Hargreaves character? Did I mention that this guy was a massive douche?
"Mmmmmm Yeeeeees sir?" I gave him a nice long drawn out yes so as to indicate my dissatisfaction at being called Mr Waiter.
"Mr Waiter..." that worked well then "....Mr Waiter I wish to move tables."
"Again sir?" He had already moved from his original due to the light above it, "blinding" him.
"Yes waiter, this table affords me no view. I wish to have a view."
You can have a view of my boot up your ass in a minute matey. The pomposity with which he spoke was outstanding, especially for a little fella. He wasn't a dwarf but he was a very small man. He also spoke with a big booming, Brian Blessed-esque, voice. To be honest it sounded forced and I was sure that at any moment he would fail to maintain it and end up squeaking like a jockey.
"A view sir, maybe we could try the first table again. It had a lovely view." I suggested with a large snifter of my own pomposity added for good measure. I am no stranger to the world of little man pompousness having suffered under it for years until I met LMM who cured me of my pomposity if not my littleness.
"Yes but it did have the light problem though didn't it?" I was trying not to smirk as he stared up at me with his little small mans face all contorted and serious as if we were discussing the impending death of a loved one or something.
"Yes indeed sir, the light problem. What to do though, it really is a pickler." I was laying it on thicker than jam on a sandwich in my house after a night on the hooch.
"Yes, it is a pickler."
"Indubitably sir." I see it as my life's goal to get the word indubitably used at least once a day. It is such a fantastic word to say if a little ostentatious.
"You want a seat with a view and I have a seat with a view for you but the [cough] blinding light problem prevents you from availing of said seat with a view. What. A. Pickler Sir." I was now speaking in such a grandiose level that I wasn't sure if he got the fact that I was taking the piss.
"Can anything be done about the blinding light? Maybe it can be dimmed or the light from it be reduced to such a level where it no longer becomes blinding? Do you have the capabilities or indeed the equipment to allow for such a thing Mr Waiter?" He was chin stroking now. Chin stroking is indeed one of the tell tale signs of pomposity or as it's more commonly referred to as being a massive douche.
"Alas sir, I, that is to say we, are unable to dim that light."
"My, that is disappointing."
"Indubitably sir", replies I.
"Indubitably Mr Waiter", agrees Little Man.
We both paused for a moment to consider our positions. It was quiet enough so I had time to indulge the whims of a small man with a massive douche syndrome. His brow was furrowed and his face was the very picture of both concentration and consternation. He eventually piped up with,
"Maybe we could just remove the light bulb from the light fitting whilst I am seated at that table."
I was now bored with my new plaything and wanted to get away from him. His suggestions were becoming ridiculous. So it was time to bring the whole mess to an end.
"No sir we cannot remove the light bulb from the light fitting."
"Well what can we do?"
I was so sorely tempted to answer that with, "We, as in you, could pick a seat, any fucking seat, and order dinner and maybe just maybe we could not let the blinding light and the lack of a view ruin the night/the rest of our lives. What say you Little Man?" But I didn't, obviously. I just shrugged my shoulders as if to say I no longer cared. He made one more plea to have the light bulb removed to which I replied,
"Sir, there is a light that never goes out, and that's it."
He stayed where he was and mithered a few more times about the lack of a view. I wouldn't mind but it was pitch black outside and there was nothing and I mean nothing to view through the window.