Sat
Jul
5
Ode to the Restaurant Goer:
I don’t want to serve you
I do not deserve you
You send back your fish
And complain of the salt
Your ass is humungous
Your feet grow a fungus
Send back chicken parm
Undercooked? It’s my fault.
A sucker for gluttoun
Your pants popped a button
You drop seafood shells
All over my floor
You chew like a heffer
Your husband’s no better
A proud restuarant patron
Your wine I will pour
It’s here comes the bill time
“You’re so overpriced” time
And fifteen percent
Is all you can spend
You roll out the door
Ten more pounds than before
As ten more walk in
And I say “Welcome, friends!”
Love,
Your Waitress
