SCORE! A NEW kind of adult entertainment.
So, I don’t normally make personal posts, for the simple fact that I’m just about totally sure that nobody gives a shit about what goes on in my life, and that’s understandable- I only personally know, 3 (give or take) of my followers, and I also lead a semi-lame life- but in this instance, I say by god, tumblr will know. I’ve an occurence worth documentation. Maybe not worth reading, but whatever.
When I get bored at work (when I have no tables of ill-tipping rednecks to lavish with grade-A service only to have them either check out my ass when I walk away or whisper unoriginal insults about my assumed sluttery for having said ass [only due to the pants I have to wear- I have no ass] and then stiff on my tip), I usually do a little jig behind the bar to whatever song Ruby Tuesday has screwed into mindless repetition. In addition to this, it’s a pretty obvious fact that I’m a weird person, and I really, truly, honestly (that’s as redundant as RT mood tunes) don’t care if people see me do something stupid that others may not feel comfortable doing in public, especially in the workplace, for instance; doing a strange walk.
This particular evening, I was indeed bored, and I was indeed walking a strange walk, somewhat like an epileptic mallard, consisting of flopping one’s feet in a diagonal direction and swiveling one’s hips in opposition with the arms swinging limply around the midsection, all while leaning backward. It looks quite… Catawompy. And I don’t give a flying fart.
So I pull a searing hot bowl of pasta from the line, the screen indicating that it goes to a seat at the far end of the bar, seat B12, in which sits a scraggly, old man complete with gray moustache-beard combo and a cowboy hat. Quite like a normal person, I saunter into the bar and put one. Simple. Foot. In front. Of. The other. Pass the bartender pouring a drink. Place the food in front of him, and before I can say, “Here you go, enjoy!” and walk away, John Wayne gruffs, “I thank you should deliver this here the way you’s a’walkin’ back thur,” pointing to the area behind the bar where I had just recently unveiled to the animal kingdom my mating strut.
For a moment, I am stunned. (The mating strut worked?)
Unable to deny him (“THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT, BITCHES.”), I smile, laugh a little, pick up the bowl, walk all the way back to the end of the bar, brace myself… and flail. I leaned back and flopped my feet and swiveled my hips and for the sake of not dropping the food I did not let my arms go limp, but by god I did everything else. He and his friend laughed their little hearts out as I once again placed the food in front of him with a smile, told him to enjoy, turned to face my bartender and the rest of the bar patrons positively exuding “WTF,” and shake my head as I exit the bar.
Not 20 minutes later, I am approached by John Wayne where I sit in a booth next to the kitchen. He places a ten dollar bill on the table before me and says, “For bein’ a good sport.”
Sometimes, you can win. And sometimes, it pays to be a freak.
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zwaters1 said:
Just so you know - this post is the first post I’ve ever “liked” on Tumblr. Ever.
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