Quesa-what?

I know the pictures are pretty and reading is hard but combine the two and you might figure out what you’re looking at.  Quesadillas do not look like that, they do not stand up, they are not spherical, so when you say “That’s not what I ordered.  I ordered the quesadilla.”  I just might think you’re an idiot.  Especially, if you think you’re going to have the right to get mad at me for your like failure.  Unlike working as a telecommunications CSA where I couldn’t put the rules and regulations under your nose and point it out and say “What does the cow say?”  I can do that in the restaurant.  So… off I go to get a menu because otherwise she’s just going to throw a fit for no reason.  Return.  Find the picture of what she thought was a quesadilla.  Have you been hiding under a rock?  Offer to change her order.  There are still onion rings to be eaten and its only an appetizer that she ordered.  “No, this is fine.”

You know what?  Damn right its fine, bitch.  Eat it.

I don’t come into where you work and throw a tantrum.  What are you five?

For today: smiley faces flunk.  We’ll see about when next I work.  Today most people were curt and didn’t look at the slip.  Really?  Where do you have to get to on a Friday?  You’re already, obviously, not working.  Important bars to hop?  Weekend meetings at the golf course?  Where do you think we live?  The Hills?