Oh For the Love of God!

Okay, so here's what I don't like. I don't like fake-n-baking, mini-van driving, hair teasing, blue eye shadow wearing, thin-lipped, coffee guzzling, cheap-ass tipping, sitting around whining about the glory days of high school soccer moms. They really pick my ass. They especially pick my ass when they happen to be sitting with their teased hair and their fake tans in my section in my restaurant taking up my time and wasting my precious oxygen with their obnoxious, inane chatter and overwhelmingly annoying rudeness.

Bitches Scene 1:

Me: "How are you today?' (Like I really had to ask, I could see their bad frosted hair and their sour, pinched faces)
Bitch #3: "Coffee!"
Me: "Well alright then. Can I get anybody anything else to drink?" (You dumb bitches)
Bitch #1: "Tea"
Me: "What kind of tea would you like?"
Bitch #1: "Hot tea." (said with snotty bitch-ass tone that translates to "please slap me because I really need it" in Angenese)
Me: "So regular tea then?" (because I like to be deliberately obtuse when dealing with bitches)
Bitch #1: "HOT...TEA" (meaning "please, please stab me in the eye and put me out of my misery")
Me: "Okaaay. And for you?"
Not Such a Bitch #3: "A small glass of milk."
Me: "Sure! And for you?"
Bitch #4: "Um, COFFEE." (said in a snarky tone as if to imply that I should've used my psychic waitressing powers to ascertain what she wanted without her actually having to tell me)
Me: "You bet. I'll be right back with that." (super cheerful tone activated which to the trained ear indicates that I'm about to grant all of their eye-stabbing wishes in a frenzy of super fast stabbing action).

Bitches Scene 2:

Me: "Sorry to interrupt (your pathetic bitch-fest)...are you ready to order or do you need a couple of minutes?" (you horrible crusty bitches)
Bitch #1: "(insert big theatrical sigh here) So you know your chocolate strawberry...THING?" (being too stupid to read the menu sitting right in front of her with the retard proof pronunciation and explanation in big bold letters across the top)
Me: "The chocolate strawberry PANNEKOEK? Yea..." (it's pronounced pan-na-kook just in case you were wondering)
Bitch #1: "Well, I don't WANT that. I WANT the banana strawberry but I WANT CHOCOLATE with it. Can you DO that?" (because her big suburban ass wasn't quite wide enough to properly fill out her cheap khaki capris I suppose)
Me: "Yeah sure. I can add chocolate to that, no problem."
Bitch #1: "Yeah but will it COST me like 17 BUCKS?" (because I'm a dumb bitch and need all my money to keep me in blue eye-liner and hair frosting)
Me: "Nooo...I don't think so...I think it's about a dollar extra but I can double check that for you if you'd like." (again with the deliberate, wide-eyed obtuse-ness, very effective when dealing with bitches - the key is to blink alot and look very confused)
Bitch "1: "NO. Money's NOT an issue. I just WONDERED because it's ALREADY so expensive. We were REALLY surprised." (because we're used to bellying up to the trough at the house of pancakes "all you can shovel for $4.99" buffet).

And I'm going to stop there because it's freaking me out that I can still remember even this much of the conversation and I'm having a big ol' craving for a yummy chai latte (it soothes my savage inner beast that still craves the eye stabbing) that must be satisfied! But you get the gist. People suck. But middle aged soccer moms with fat asses, fake tans, ugly children, and bellies full of unfulfilled dreams suck the most.