Waitressing Is A Soul-Destroying Profession

| Working | February 7, 2015

(It is my 18th birthday, and I’m very excited to go out for a nice dinner with some friends. I’ve made it clear to them that I don’t, by any means, want the staff of the restaurant to sing to me, so please don’t mention any birthdays. Sure enough, one friend accidentally mentions it to our waitress as she passes by.)

Waitress: “Oh, your birthday! You want the free dessert when we come out to sing to you?”

Me: “Oh, please, no, don’t do the song. If you have a soul, please don’t do the song.”

Waitress: “Oh, honey, I’m a waitress. I don’t have a soul.” *she laughs a weird, creepy laugh, as if I was supposed to find that funny* “But, fine, I won’t have anyone come out and sing, but you’ll still get the free [dessert], all right?”

Me: “Thank you, but really, I don’t need the free dessert.”

(We finish eating our entrees and chat for a bit, when I hear the worst sound in the world: an entire staff of a restaurant clapping in unison.)

Staff: “Happy, happy birthday, from [Restaurant] to you. We wish it was our birthday, so we could party, too!”

Waitress: *puts the dessert on the table* “See? I said I don’t have a soul! Hahaha! Here’s your check, folks. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Me: *absolutely lost for words, wishing I was invisible as now the entire restaurant is staring directly at me* “Uh… guys, please eat this as fast as possible so we can pay and get the f*** out of here.”

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