Work it, bitch

I enjoy good service. No, seriously. I like to tip at least 20% if the service was good at a restaurant. I like to wish people a good day when they've answered my questions. I like being well attended at any local food place, and then telling other people they should check it out. Even if said food is somewhat shitty.

But this one time, not too long ago, I went to a better known sandwich shop. Let's call it Wubsay. Now, I like me a good Wubsay sandwich. It's not the best out there, but it's good for what it is. What sucked a big cheese encrusted cock was the guy attending me.

I'm in line, there's 2 guys ahead of me. I'm just there, waiting like any sane human would expect, when the sandwich maker asks me what I want. My neck snaps back towards him, and I see him asking the guy ahead of me what he wants in his sandwich.

"I must be hearing things."

But then he calls me again. Now I'm all for multi-tasking, but if you're going to attend me, fucking attend me. He gets the hint after I wait for him to put another Wub into the oven-microwave thing. He looks me in the eyes and asks me what I want. What I ordered doesn't matter, I've already forgotten. Let's say I ordered the extra cheesy sardine combo. He nods in acknowledgement, then deals with the heated Wub.

After he does all his chores with the heated Wub from the guy ahead of me, he comes back to me and asks me what I want. So far the service is pretty bad. His act of multi-tasking was really just a waste of time.

"But it's okay" I say "It's minimum wage, it's to be expected."

He prepares my sandwich up for me and asks what I'd like on it. I was waiting for this moment the whole time I was in line. I know exactly what I want and don't want. I start something like: I don't want lettuce or--

He looked like this-ish.
From here what happens is nothing too exciting. I get pissed off. I'm the customer, I'm always right. Don't correct me, you just listen to me and pull your saw-edged butt plug out of your anus, shit-stain.

I had a low temper that day. But I did nothing mean. I just said everything like I wanted to say it anyway. No lettuce, no jalapenos, everything else goes.

After a bit of thought, though, here's what I should have said:

Everything. Yes, even jalapenos.

Now take the jalapenos off. Now take the lettuce off. Now the tomatoes. Don't forget the banana peppers. Now the green peppers, please, I don't need them any more. Actually, I'm not hungry, I'm gonna go.

Next time some skid-mark comes at me with this shit, I'll have this ready. Be on your toes, Wubsay employees.