So there we were, coming in to eat at your establishment. You, my oh-so perfect little queen waitron were almost but not quite able to hide your dismay at this odd group of people. I mean, really, at least three of us were clearly from somewhere in the midwest.
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Given that three of us were also obviously dykes, or at least local weirdoes, you might have caught on that we were entertaining visitors.
But no, you struggled masterfully, albeit unsuccessfully, to hide your disdain for our friends from Ohio. Your undertone snide comments were not unnoticed, my friend. Next time, make those comments while you're in the kitchen. Saying things like "you people are horrible" in a perky bright voice is bad form, to say the least. Fucking unforgivably rude is more like it.
For your information, miss i'm-too-young-to-remember-the-plague-years, that ancient (over 50) woman from Ohio who ordered too much food and was loud and annoying to you comes out here to meet up with us because we took care of her son while he was dying a dozen years ago. The same son she drove to New York so he could attend the first year of Harvey Milk High. The same son she came out to once he was 16.
The son who died a month before his 22nd birthday.
She's been at the forefront of what passes for a gay rights movement in Ohio, and has stood up so that pathetic little twinks like you can walk down the street in your aberzombie and felch uniforms and hold hands.
And even with what you acted like, she still tipped you 20%, because she remembers her son working in a similar restaurant, and his struggles with money.
Next time someone who doesn't fit your personal tastes comes into your restaurant, perhaps you might try some compassion, or even just some human respect. Remember the word diversity? It applies to you and your tiny narrow mind as well.
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