People, People, People: Who Tell Me No


Sometimes, most of the time, I want what I want.

I want exactly what I want.

Sometimes, I can not have it. For example, if I want that new job or I want to get accepted to grad school or I want some boy to return my affection. In those instances, the having or not having is outside of my control and I have to live with that.

So when I want what I want and what I want is totally within my control (i.e. $$$$) then I had damned well better get it.

It was a lovely sunny Sunday morning and I had just finished a beautiful brisk walk with my girls. Their happiness is infectious; when they are happy, mama is happy. I was having a great day, I was in a wonderful mood.

To round out my morning, I like to treat myself to a trip to the local diner where I don’t mind going alone to sit and enjoy a warm breakfast of soy-free, barley-free deliciousness and sip a warm cup of coffee and enjoy my solitude.

I won’t even linger on the fact that on this particular morning the hostess looked directly through me to seat the couple that came in moments after me.

Someone who spends as much time as I do trying to be invisible can not be angry when she is.

Finally I am taken to my booth and sipping on my coffee I place my order:

I would like a Spinach and Feta Omelette but no home fries or no toast. I would like your melon of the day, instead.

And then it happened. The old bag waitress looked at me aghast with her hand over her heart and said “I can’t do that.”

Uhm, the hell you can not do that.

She goes on to explain a story about the buttons she has available on her computer monitor and my meal coming with the homefries and toast and it’s just not possible.

Look here, Ass hat. I don’t give two shits what buttons you have to push. Give me the fucking cantaloupe and don’t you dare put the potatoes or bread on my plate. Whatever you have to charge me extra is fine. Please bring the cantaloupe and don’t worry about plating the homefries or toast.  

Bu-bu-but…she tries to continue…I sigh…

I know, I know tis a very small thing to get cranky about but I just don’t get the impossibility here.

And PS – My girls do not appreciate your ruining the good mood they put me in.

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About Anonymous Burn

I'm just a girl who has a blog. But I'm kinda groovy, too.

6 thoughts on “People, People, People: Who Tell Me No

  1. Cara says:

    Ass hat!! I really wish you called the ass hat an ass hat! What a total ass hat, indeed. It’s as if you asked her for an omelet without eggs. That crap would so piss me off especially because, as you said, you are PAYING for service and how hard is it to be decent at your freaking job??? {I just totally took up your anger here–ha!} But on a lighter note, I totally go to restaurants alone and love it ❤ GIve the girls and smooch from Auntie Cara 🙂

    • I love you for feeling and understanding my frustration. I wasn’t asking for the moon. In fact, everything I wanted they had and I actually wanted less than that. I was doing them a favor. Jumpin’ Giminy! The girls sure do love smoochtime with Auntie Cara.

  2. The idiocy is unreal. I so feel your pain. “I don’t think we can do just grilled chicken. We have a grilled chicken sandwich, though!”

    On April 28th, let’s make an eggy, melony breakfast!!!

    • I don’t get it. You didn’t ask for llama meat which they just don’t have. You are asking them to take what they have to offer and scale it back. Where’s the confusion? What’s the impossibility? Rhetorical, I know because the issue isn’t food or buttons, it is rampant stupidity.

      I’m a very huge fan of big breakfast weekends. I fully intend to institute this.

  3. pennypup says:

    Wow… that’s just stupid! I guess the waitress is too busy to use this thing called “a voice” and talk to the person responsible for plating the food.

    If you ever go there again, and get the same waitress. I’d ask her a hypothetical question about what she does when the power goes out. None of her computer buttons work then.

    I swear, I think technology has made humans de-evolve.

    • This kind of thing happens all the time. In a quest to de-meat a dish I’ll order some chicken pasta dish because I want that pairing of pasta and sauce “but no chicken” – Uhm bu-bu-bu it *comes* with it. I know I just don’t want it. Now it’s the bread. Bring me all the other stuff on the plate just keep that roll for someone who will devour and love it properly – BUT THE BUTTONS!!!!

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