not so fast, focus

In my years of waitressing I’ve met plenty of great people, both guests and coworkers. In those same years I’ve also met some of the biggest assholes that probably exist, also both coworkers and guests.

I was working at the Rainforest Cafe, for what was probably three months; it was too far, too corporate and not enough money. And the people, well, yea, not my kind of people.

Of all the experiences I had there I don’t remember much, except that repeatedly, a portly, balding and just not that attractive guy would bust my balls so hard that it was more shocking than hurtful.

I mean it seemed off too, that a guy with physical attributes that could easily be mocked would be so quick to harass someone else, but people are strange.

It started out like your run-of-the-mill teasing, oh-so-original use of the word fat, and just rude juvenile stuff like cutting in front of my at the computer and reaching in front of me for stuff.

Whatever.

One night it’s slow, and a few of us are standing around bullshitting in the back when he walks in. In case you’re not familiar the RFC uniform was khaki pants, a safari style shirt and a fanny pack. We’re all dressed like this though some of us [them] pull it off better than others.

“Nice outfit” he says to me and JABS HIS FINGER into my belly “What’s that, a Dunlop?”

“A what?”

“Dunlop, like the tire” (followed by maniacal laughter)

Red faced and embarrassed I’m sure, I look at the people I’ve been talking to, they all sort of look stunned or are awkwardly smirking.

“Way less funny when you have to explain it, asshole”

I forget about this guy after I quit, until I get home from some other job one night weeks or months later and he’s in my house.

Yea, my house.

Schmoozing my parents, hanging out with one of my brothers.

You’ve got to be kidding.

Turns out, he now works in some other restaurant and now we’re all going to sit in my living room acting like he’s a cool guy, and reminiscing about our times at work together.

No way, Eddie Hascal.

The BEST part, is when he starts putting “the moves” on me the next few times he comes over. Coming down to my room, trying to put his arm around me, blowing me kisses and a few other comments you would expect from a twenty-something horndog.

Finally I’m like “Dude you you’re not my type, BUT even if you were – you were rude as fuck to me for months; hurting my feelings, embarrassing me, treating me like crap, you think I would want anything to do with you?”

He chuckles and, I swear to you, says

“Oh come on, I always liked you, I was just messing around to be funny, I had to keep my reputation as a cool guy”

Spoiler alert: You’re not funny or cool if you’re ripping someone down. You’re even less cool if you’re treating a person you claim to like, like shit for the sake of other people’s validation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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