It was a dark and shitty night....

I'm a dark and shitty mood, but then again you probably guessed that from the title. And you really don't want to hear about it. Suffice to say there is a signed, but undated, letter of resignation in my bag. I know it's there and that's enough to keep me happy. Well happyish. If it hadn't been for LMM talking me out of it I wouldn't be a waiter right now. I'd just be a bloke looking for a waiting job. But I'm still a waiter, for now. I reserve the right to leave my options open.

gay
apparently....

Being that I'm in such a shitty mood and all I see is darkness (hows that for drama?) I decided to work the private room tonight. I wasn't in the mood for talking to anyone and as you work that room on our own there would be no chitchat, no small talk, no inane babble, no "did you see that thing on TV about things with things?" type of crap, no babbling, no conversation of any sort. Obviously I would have to interact with the guests but that could be dealt with by being aloof and distant, seems to work for everyone else.

As it happened the guests were bonkers and really didn't notice me except when they needed another "swallie". A swallie (from the word swallow) is a local word that oafs and the friends of oafs use when what they mean to say is, "Excuse me young chap can we get another round of alcoholic beverages please?" But why use 13 when one, pronounced poorly, will suffice.

I knew they were going to be a treat when just after I had delivered the menus and recited the specials one of the thick necked cretins asked if they were "doing starters" to which another muppet with little to no neck replied,

"Nah starters are for fruits." To absolute guffaws of laughter.

Charming I'm sure.

The conversation, and I use that term in the lightest way, was lairy at best and down right vulgar at worst. It mainly consisted of piss poor jokes, most read from mobile phones and a constant stream of double entendres and innuendo. ("You're in who's end mate?" As they would probably say) And when the conversation dried up it was back to the mobile phones again and very questionable videos were passed around.

But I persevered and after clearing their mains away I half heartedly offered them the sweet menu. I reasoned that if they considered starters to be for gay men only then surely sweets would be offensive to their manly man-ness. So I was shocked when they snatched the menus from me as giddily as kids who just eaten all their greens. So there you have it, starters are for "fruits" and delicate chocolate fondants and cheesecake are for heterosexual males who get their jollies to soft porn on their mobile phones.

I fucking despair sometime

Anyone got a pen? I have a letter to date........

But probably wont.