I made the somewhat dubious mistake of going to McDonalds for lunch yesterday. I went with a friend from work because he was craving it and I had forgotten to bring my lunch from home. My bad.
So we’re sitting there, me eating my grilled chicken sandwich and my friend eating his nuggets or whatever when out of nowhere this crackwhore sidles up to our table and sits down.
“Excuse me?” I say, frightened and confused.
“Can I get fitty cents?” asked the crackwhore.
“No, go away,” I replied, disgusted by this poor example of humanity.
“But I just wants a Coke”, retorted the crackwhore.
“No. Go away,” I repeated, “Go away.”
“Mang, fuck you,” she said, getting up and sauntering over to another patron to bother.
Seriously, what the fuck?
So, here I am at work, minding my own business, killing time reading random Wikipedia articles (so far today, I’ve learned about the Tu-114 jet, the 1989-1990 New Jersey Nets and the ease-of-pronunciation-challenged village of Zborczyce, Poland (the land of Po!)), when all I’ve heard all day from the next row of cubes over is constant coughing. And not the slightly-annoying cough of someone with a tickle in their throat, but rather the wet hacking of someone who’s smoked about 50,000 too many unfiltered Camels in their life. I wandered over to investigate who it was and found it to be our DBA, a Chinese man whose only normal annoyance is when he digs into chip bags way too loudly for his mid-afternoon snack.
Does he have swine flu? Avian flu? Did SARS (remember that?) make a comeback?
Who knows? All I know is that it’s fucking annoying, probably exposing me to the Yellow fever and making my eyes feel slanty.
At least he’s not farting constantly, like this guy that used to work in the next cube over. He got fired a couple of years ago, supposedly for laziness and lack of skills (or mad-skillz), but I know the real reason: constant wet farting.
Oh well, back to the grind. The spice must flow. Or something like that.
From the Mexican lady working the cash register:
“Would you like to balue size it?”
“with one-thousand Iceland dressing?”
From some random white trash person waiting in line and wearing scrubs:
“whenever I come to Dallas, I always get Chicken-flay”
Drank is a “extreme relaxation drink” (as opposed to an energy drink) aimed at the African-American market segment. Their tagline is “Slow Your Roll”. It’s can is ergonomically-designed to fit the cupholders of mid-Eighties American sedans with giant wheels and bad upholstery.
Apparently, and not being gay, I didn’t know this, but this week has been Gay Pride Week. Which, based on my limited experience involving vaguely-recalled news stories, is pretty much an excuse for gay people to have parades that just serve to reinforce stereotypes. It’s like if black people had a parade every February (Black History Month) featuring floats shaped like watermelons while they threw menthol cigarettes and fried chicken into the crowds lining the parade route. Incidentally, this parade would be sponsored by some maker of “Orange Drank”.
But, reinforcement of age-old stereotypes or not (leather chaps, flaming demeanors and cocksucking), California did recently make gay marriage legal. And now you can get an appropriate wedding cake: