Saturday, July 30, 2011

Horrible tipping habits

Ok, today's topic is kind of a big problem.  More so for women than men, but it happens with men too.  It involves servers and bartenders for the most part.  But the rest of you on the other side of this token should learn a lesson. 

If any of you, particularly women, have waited tables before you know, and should, hate this.  A dude and his friends come in, sit at your table, and begin flirting.  Drinks and food are served, and if the waitress knows how to make money, she should be flirting back a little.  The time comes for the bill, the guys pay, and leave.  The poor unsuspecting waitress checks the tip and.....BAM!  A phone number rests on the bill instead of a hefty tip.  You guys who do this should be ashamed of yourselves.  No woman who has just served you will want to call you if you did not tip her.  That's like putting a warning on the bill saying "don't call this number!!"  Hey retards, tip your waitresses!  No female waits tables to meet guys...especially idiots who don't tip.  ESPECIALLY idiots who think their waitress flirts with them because she is interested.  I bet you think the girls at hooters are really into to you too, huh? 

The guy side of this is much less prominent, but it's still there nonetheless.  A lot of girls (skanks) out there think that if they dress provocatively and flirt with their male server, that acts as a tip.  Never does this ever take the place of a tip.  Poor, gullible guys get the shaft here again.  Guys wait tables for tips, not titties.  Sorry girls, put the girls away and get out your pocket books. 

The moral of the story is, flirting and your number will never work as a tip.  The best way to get a server to be interested in you is to take care of them for taking care of you.  Quit being stupid.  And for those of you out there who don't tip at all, you should be ashamed of yourselves.  Shame shame shame.

Here's a little view of what we all want to do to you guys:

Friday, July 29, 2011

My Child Can Say Banana!!

Well, kind of.  She said "dunanu".  It is the same amount of syllables and letters, and when said, could be mistaken for banana.  Plus, she was eating bananas at the time.  Coincidence?  I'll let you be the judge.  Have a great weekend!!

Monday, July 25, 2011

Hate Spiral

Ok, I am so so sorry for the break between posts.  Been going through a bit of life lately, but I'm back.

I have to admit that today's post, though drawn straight out of my day today, is brought to you by a topic from Hyperbole and a Half.  If you haven't read her stuff, it is absolutely hilarious.  One of her better posts is called Sneaky Hate Spiral and that is the focus of today's rant.

Today started out like any other day.  Rolled my lazy butt out of bed, played some black ops, and got ready for work.  By the way, Black Ops is my shit.  And I am a monster.  Like the Angel of Death for those little video game bodies.

I walked into work a little irritated, just because it is Monday.  And Monday means beer liquor and wine inventory.  Ever go to work, or anywhere really, and it just seems like there is just a cloud of aggravation over the entire place?  That was today at the restaurant.  I felt like Ashton Kutcher had somehow replaced my restaurant with a replica restaurant and sent each and every server, bartender, and guest there specifically to push my buttons.  For those of you who lived under a rock in the early 2000's, that is a Punk'd reference. 

It just seemed like everything all night long that could have gone wrong did.

"The lady said she wanted extra cheese." (small annoyance)

"Can I go smoke?"  (no.)

"I know I rang in a well done steak....I forgot he said medium rare..."  (seriously??)

"Oops, I just broke 3 glasses and spilled soup!"  (here it comes)

"Hey Bo, mind if i take a smoke break?"  (you can not smoke right now)

"I know you just boxed that up to go, but the lady wants it to eat here now. :)"  (GAH)

"Can I smoke?" no  "Can I smoke?" no!  "Can I smoke??"  NO!  "Pleeeeaaasseeee???"  .....ok

"This dude doesn't want to pay for his drink, even though it is what he ordered" (...)

Then it happened......

"My steak was undercooked...."

  And that is when the Sneaky Hate Spiral hit me like a ton of bricks.  The worst part is, the guy was absolutely right.  His steak was undercooked, it was our fault, and he was well within his rights to ask for the steak to be brought up to his liking.  But I am standing on the edge of Hate Canyon, so.......BAM!  And at this point everyone near me becomes a potential target for my tremendous pouring out of the aggravation I have been storing inside me all day.  So I need a place to chill out before I say or do something retarded to an undeserving server.

And where is a great place to cool off in a restaurant??  THE FREEZER.  Best place on earth if you are either a frozen good or a person who is pissed off.  And the only reason to come out of there is: 1. Hypothermia, or 2.  Because the cold air made you have to pee (which is usually right as you enter).  Man, I could sleep in there.

The freezer helped a little, but the thing that really pulled me out was this:

A picture of my sweet little girl

Monday, July 4, 2011

Mr. Laundry.....Sorry Liz

Happy Fourth of July everyone!  And to celebrate our nation's independence, I have decided to share a comical story of my childhood.  There are four characters in this narrative: Bo Wright, Josh Wright, Elizabeth Wright, and Mr. Laundry.  Please to enjoy.  This is for you Laurel Davis and Carolyn Kinney, I hope you see it.

So when my brother and I were younger, we lived in a house with no real laundry room in the house, so my parents used a closet in the hall as kind of a hamper.  So at times, there was a huge pile of dirty laundry there.  I was around 10 or 11, so my sister was 3 or 4. 

I don't remember why I climbed underneath the dirty clothes pile in the closet on this particular day, but I was under there and Elizabeth walked by.  I figured I would have some fun and see where this went.  The conversation went something like this.

Me:  Hey

Elizabeth: ??  Hello?

Me:  Who are you?

Elizabeth:  My name is Jessica (we called her Jessica back then), who are you?

Me:  Um.....well, I'm Mr. Laundry.  I live here with my wife, Mrs. Laundry.

Elizabeth:  Hello Mr. Laundry!  :))))))

She would talk to me, or my brother (whichever one of us was under there at the time), for long periods of time about whatever was going on in her 4-year old life at the moment.  You know, bugs, dolls, mean brothers....those kinds of things. 

When she would ask us if she could come to our house, we would make up some elaborate story about how she would have to go through a cave with bats and shit in it just to get to our door.  It seemed to work.  Sometimes Josh or I would get bored with the Mr. Laundry schtick and say,"Hold on, I'm going to get Mrs. Laundry.  She wants to say hello."  We would hit the floor to make noises like we were going down some stairs, and then make more like we were coming back upstairs.  Then I would talk in a woman's voice and say I was Mrs. Laundry. 

This went on for months, and Elizabeth never even tried to climb into the clothes to discover that it was her brothers and not some mythical dirty clothes man made of clothes.  It was great fun. 

I always imagined myself looking like this.  For those of you who grew up in the eighties or before then, you should know what this thing on the left is.  This is the magical trash heap from Fraggle Rock.  Whenever, the fraggles would have a problem, they would consult the magical trash heap, and she would drop some knowledge on them to help them with their problems.  Genius, Jim Henson, genius. 

I know, of course, we did not look like the magical trash heap.  We probably looked a lot more like the pile of clothes on the right.  It was fun nonetheless, and Elizabeth never suspected a thing.

Little sisters are funny little beings, who given the chance, can enrich the rest of our lives by being gullible or dumb haha.  I'll never forget about Mr. Laundry and the days I spent talking to a four year old in a dumb voice about her day.  To this day, my brother and I talk about Mr. Laundry and how funny and trusting Elizabeth was.  Boy, did we ruin that.....

Tomorrow we'll talk about Home-made haunted houses and how much fun they are for the whole family.  And when I say whole family, I mean me and Josh.  And when I say fun, I mean terrifying for four year old girls....

Here's a bit of nostalgia for your Fraggle Rock fans

Friday, July 1, 2011

Awesome Stuff from Amazing People

Hey everyone.  Not much on the chopping block today, but I would like to make sure everyone is heading to downtown Columbus tomorrow morning for the marketplace stuff they have going on there.  My brother, Josh Wright, and his beautiful bride, Rachel, will be there selling their stuff.  Rachel is a supremely talented artist, and she will be selling her paintings.  Josh has just found his talents as a sculptor of sorts.  Bowls, cups and garden stuffs all made out of concrete.  They are awesome!

You can go here to check out their almost-completed website, where you will soon be able to purchase their stuff online.  But for now, hit them up on Broad tomorrow morning.  :)

On a side note, Rachel is also a blogger with some fantastic stuff for everyone! 

Rachel's Awesome Blog

See you tomorrow!
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