wine by the color

Sunday, September 17, 2006

I know. I promised ranting, and have not delivered. The Sandman has already yelled at me. I really should take the time to write about the asshat I accidentally sat next to in Arizona to watch a little of the OSU game. A guy who spent the entirety of our seating arrangement trying to figure out how to "accidentally" put his hands on my ass. The imbecile who eventually used the N word when talking about a member of the Buckeyes. The man I verbally bitch-slapped four seconds later.

But instead, let's talk about a waitress in the diner last night, shall we?

After visiting my father in the hospital (oh, have I not mentioned that? I'll save that for Monday, when we'll discuss the word "semantics"), we went to the local diner. I always find it strange to be in a diner at the dinner hour instead of 3 a.m., but so be it.

We were almost done with our meal, and my sister-in-law got up to feed the baby, or Sweetie Pie Princess as crazy nephew #1 has taken to calling her (thus, heretofore to be known as SPP). As she left the table, one of the waitresses approached the table. She looked at the baby, looked at my sister-in-law, and said, pointing to SPP and Lisa's stomach, "Oh my God, is this one yours? And you're already having another one?"

Now, my sister-in-law just had a baby six weeks ago. And she already looks better than 96% of the patrons in the diner (most notably, much better than the couple whose combined weight was 592 pounds, both wearing dirty white wifebeaters). So she looked stunned. She responded with a simple, "No." And the waitress, realizing her mistake, scurried away without another word.

Which led to this exchange...

Me: "Wow, you're a better person than me. I'd have punched her."
My SIL, still holding the baby: "My hands were full."

Fortunately, she was not our waitress. And we didn't let that affect the tip we left for the cat who did wait on us. But seriously, what the hell is wrong with people?


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