TreSwank
Posts: 1165
Joined: 3/5/2005 Status: offline
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Employment at a local Italian eatery afforded Yours Truly a rare opportunity to whet his wicked good customer-service skills to a Ginsu-like efficiency and precision......the chance to give the food-service monster a "complimentary" Sicilian-style handjob, worthy of a front-page write-up in any reputable culinary review. Oh, what fine rewards TreSwank would reap from treating every unworthy cum-stain in a deferential manner, befitting a sultan with exorbitant riches and an overcrowded harem. "Doth thy shoat of a wife requireth more olive dip, Kind and Benevolent Sir? Perhaps a little after-dinner fellatio underneath thine table might appease thee to consider a meager tip, O Lord ?" I hated my customers......hated ALL of them with the incandescent, molten-lava rage that a backwoods white supremacist harbors for those gosh-darned "mud-races". If they left a shitty tip, I would hope and pray that they'd be the "unfortunate" victims of a bizarre traffic fatality on the way home. I was a twenty-one year old food-service WHORE, giving myself away indiscriminantly.....my smiles.....my empathy......my poised "fine dining" elegance.......all for a bleak purgatory that reeked of calamari appetizers and pasta fagioli. Every night, I felt like one of those "Lifetime" channel rape victims, who would scrub themselves to a bloody pulp in the shower, only to find that the nastiness wasn't something that could be washed away or absolved with soap and water...it was internalized. Never again, will I work in the food-service industry. I would rather prostitute my 22-year old body at a Nevada truck stop for a bag of Mexican shwag.
< Message edited by TreSwank -- 11/4/2006 1:24:44 PM >
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