Day 80: Eat furniture

Day 80

Today, I have to begin to eat a piece of furniture.

Once more, I’ll do this after work.

Work sucks.

To set the mood of my day, the first customer isn’t even halfway through the door before barking at me, “Sausage McMuffin!”

No exaggeration, he cut off my friendly polite greeting to say that.

There were terrible customers all day, but really the worst is this old woman and her granddaughter.

She complains that there was nowhere to sit (it was crowded) and people are taking up booths by themselves and using their laptops instead of eating.

I point out a free table nearby, one of the tall ones with swivelly chairs.

She gives me this snooty look, and asks, “You don’t have kids, do you?”

Seriously, lady, I’m 19. Do I really look like I’ve had kids? But all I say is “No.”

“Well of course not, because you know those tables aren’t suitable for kids.”

I shrug, turn back to my register, and make an offhand comment about how I’d loved those tables when I was a kid.

“Well, you might love them, but little kids don’t!”

Then she orders her food, and I ask if she wanted it to go, but she insists on eating in the restaurant where she knows there are no tables.

Whatever, not my problem.

She circles the restaurant again, and returns to inform me there’s still no tables, and people are still using their laptops.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t kick them out. They have a right to be here.”

“Then where am I supposed to sit?”

“I don’t know. I can put your food in bags to go if you’d like.”

“No! That’s no way for a kid to eat!”

(by the way, the kid in question seems really bored by all this, and obviously just wants to eat. Where doesn’t matter to her.)

Finally this lady leaves, muttering about the horrible service and how we don’t care about the children.

I see her hover around another family until they left their table, then immediately take it.

Then, she comes back to complain to us that the table was dirty. I’m glad someone else takes care of that, because I would’ve turned into a bitch. Or started crying. Or both.

Anyways, work finally does end, and I get home. Yay home!

I talk to Mike for a short while. I so cannot wait for him to get here tomorrow.

Then, I eat furniture.

I talk about this idea to my dad first, because I need to know if wooden furniture is poisonous. I know they chemically treat wood, and I don’t want to get sick.

He suggests building furniture out of food. The book suggests wood, but it doesn’t specifically say it.

So I make a graham cracker and frosting table, and eat it. Task done with no poisoning yay.

The rest of my day is boring. Mostly, I’m just excited about seeing Mike tomorrow.

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I remember that woman. She was one of the few customers I've had that seriously pissed me off.