Never Underestimate the Powers of Y.E.L.R.A.!
What a wonderful evening I had. The restaurant is not usually open for lunch, but today they made an exception. A large party was held in the afternoon. While I was not present for this party, I caught the tail end of it. It was still going on when I arrived to work at 6 p.m.
Of course the restroom was a pig sty. In fact, someone had puked in one of the stalls. That was a fine "how do you do?"
It took about a half an hour to get the restroom back into order. Once that was done everything was back to normal. As the evening progressed, it became quite obvious that people were having a little too much fun.
At 8 p.m. a man announced to me that he was drunk. He wasn't the only one.
I had to prevent many couples from going into a stall together. I think I counted 9 separate occasions where I had to lay the law down.
Couple Number Eight takes the cake.
Oh, Couple Number Eight!
I first came into contact with the man earlier in the evening. I had noticed that he had just a tad bit too much testosterone running through his body. Every comment was very crass and he thought he was extremely funny. An audience of one is not a good thing.
When it came to their moment in the sun, I asked them nicely to not go into the stall together. He told me he was going to do it anyway.
Big mistake.
In fact, that was mistake #1.
(Wait until you get to mistake #2. It's a doozy.)
I told the meathead that I would not allow him to go into the stall with her.
"Dude, she's my wife," he stated rather monosyllabic. "She's not going to suck my dick or anything."
That's when I decided that I was not going to take his shit. I told him that I had asked him nicely and it was rather rude that he was not listening to me. He reluctantly left the stall. As I went about my business, he decided that he would revert to name calling. He started calling me such clever names as "fag" and "queer."
The words were meaningless. He was just trying to get me upset. Boy howdy, did he get me upset! I started to walk right in his direction. He knew I was pissed.
"You wanna come at me? Come on!" he shouted.
At this point I acted rationally. Just like a good ninja does, I remembered my training. When I was first hired I was told that if there was any situation I found myself in where I was not comfortable, leave the restroom. I did that exact thing. I walked right past this idiot with his puffed out chest. All the while this lunkhead just barked threats at me.
I immediately found a co-worker and explained the situation. He said he would take care of it and told me to get a manager. He said we were going to kick the guy out.
That's right! I got a "guest" kicked out of the restaurant.
There is nothing more satisfying than instant karma. That's what he gets for being a dick.
The rest of evening was fun. I felt as though a tremendous weight had been lifted off of me. The last week or so had been rough and somewhat stressful. It was a very cathartic moment.
I spoke to my managers later on. They said that they would always back me up should something like that happen ever again. Their take on it was that they did not want any of their employees in a threatening situation.
As I was leaving the restaurant at the end of the night, I stopped to talk to one of the valets. He said that he witnessed the lunkhead leaving the restaurant. All the man could do was scream "fucking faggots" as he left. The Valet thought that the guy was real intelligent and was happy to see him go.
Remember, please be kind to whomever you come into contact with. Instant karma's gonna get you. Gonna look you right in the face. Better get yourself together darlin'. Join the human race. How in the world you gonna see, laughing at fools like me? Who in the hell d'you think you are, a superstar? Thanks John Lennon, you're the best. Even though I'm more of a George Harrison guy, you still rock better than Sir Paul.
Of course the restroom was a pig sty. In fact, someone had puked in one of the stalls. That was a fine "how do you do?"
It took about a half an hour to get the restroom back into order. Once that was done everything was back to normal. As the evening progressed, it became quite obvious that people were having a little too much fun.
At 8 p.m. a man announced to me that he was drunk. He wasn't the only one.
I had to prevent many couples from going into a stall together. I think I counted 9 separate occasions where I had to lay the law down.
Couple Number Eight takes the cake.
Oh, Couple Number Eight!
I first came into contact with the man earlier in the evening. I had noticed that he had just a tad bit too much testosterone running through his body. Every comment was very crass and he thought he was extremely funny. An audience of one is not a good thing.
When it came to their moment in the sun, I asked them nicely to not go into the stall together. He told me he was going to do it anyway.
Big mistake.
In fact, that was mistake #1.
(Wait until you get to mistake #2. It's a doozy.)
I told the meathead that I would not allow him to go into the stall with her.
"Dude, she's my wife," he stated rather monosyllabic. "She's not going to suck my dick or anything."
That's when I decided that I was not going to take his shit. I told him that I had asked him nicely and it was rather rude that he was not listening to me. He reluctantly left the stall. As I went about my business, he decided that he would revert to name calling. He started calling me such clever names as "fag" and "queer."
The words were meaningless. He was just trying to get me upset. Boy howdy, did he get me upset! I started to walk right in his direction. He knew I was pissed.
"You wanna come at me? Come on!" he shouted.
At this point I acted rationally. Just like a good ninja does, I remembered my training. When I was first hired I was told that if there was any situation I found myself in where I was not comfortable, leave the restroom. I did that exact thing. I walked right past this idiot with his puffed out chest. All the while this lunkhead just barked threats at me.
I immediately found a co-worker and explained the situation. He said he would take care of it and told me to get a manager. He said we were going to kick the guy out.
That's right! I got a "guest" kicked out of the restaurant.
There is nothing more satisfying than instant karma. That's what he gets for being a dick.
The rest of evening was fun. I felt as though a tremendous weight had been lifted off of me. The last week or so had been rough and somewhat stressful. It was a very cathartic moment.
I spoke to my managers later on. They said that they would always back me up should something like that happen ever again. Their take on it was that they did not want any of their employees in a threatening situation.
As I was leaving the restaurant at the end of the night, I stopped to talk to one of the valets. He said that he witnessed the lunkhead leaving the restaurant. All the man could do was scream "fucking faggots" as he left. The Valet thought that the guy was real intelligent and was happy to see him go.
Remember, please be kind to whomever you come into contact with. Instant karma's gonna get you. Gonna look you right in the face. Better get yourself together darlin'. Join the human race. How in the world you gonna see, laughing at fools like me? Who in the hell d'you think you are, a superstar? Thanks John Lennon, you're the best. Even though I'm more of a George Harrison guy, you still rock better than Sir Paul.
3 Comments:
You Go Y.E.L.R.A.! Hahahahaaa. There are so many people in my serving life that I would have so loved to have seen thrown out of the restaurant, who were instead fawned over by management to avoid a "lost customer". What power...what style...what a gig.
I still do not understand the enchantment of squeezing into a bathroom stall, where STARNGERS PEE, and having some kind of sexual encounter. Ick. You'll never have to throw me and mine out of your lovely restroom...
"An audience of one is not a good thing."
Bwa!Perfect! May I have your permission to use that sometime??Brilliant!
You did So good!!! YAY Y.E.L.R.A.!!!!
You've got such class:)
I have underestimated the powers of yelra, to my detriment. McCartney, while with the Beatles, was a God. Bow down, yelra.
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