A Pop Song

(I’m with my family at one of those places where the wait-staff is encouraged to be blatantly disrespectful. Guests are encouraged to be just as ornery. At another table, a boy is having a little party. He has eight balloons tied to his chair.)

Mother: “Well, are you lazy, good-for-nothing ingrates going to sing Happy Birthday to my son or what?”

Server: *she’s standing next to the boy* “Sure! Are you ready?” *pops a balloon with her pen* “Happy birthday to you!” *pop* “Happy birthday to you! ” *pop* “Happy birthday,” *pop* “Happy birthday,” *pop* “Happy birthday to you!” *pop pop pop*

(She popped all eight balloons. It was sooooo satisfying.)