Saturday, December 27, 2008
So many mothers have this sense of fucking entitlement like she is the first woman to ever push a baby out of her Sweet Potato Pie Hole. It's been happening for thousands of years, no big whoop. I cannot write enough about my disdain for children in my station. I don't want them in my personal life so why the fuck would I want one at work? But people bring their babies in and then they think it's my responsibility to make sure the music is not too loud. Or they have the nerve to ask me to heat up their baby food. Why would they think I have time for that? It's not my baby. I am supposed to ignore my other tables and then bother the kitchen staff to heat up a bottle of milk? I'd rather you just breastfeed if it means I don't have to do anything. Not that I want to get a close up view of your areola when I refill your Diet Coke. These are the same people who bring babies to an R rated movie and think it's okay for everyone else to listen to it for two hours. No one cares about your baby except the people who know your baby (and some of them only act like they give a shit.) No one in the restaurant wants to step around your giant stroller or listen to it cry or watch you whip out your tit so it has an appetizer. Leave them at home with a sitter. Or just leave it alone while you come out to eat. I am sure it will be fine, whatever. Just leave a post-it note on it's head with your cell phone number so if there is a problem the police will know how to reach you. You could always take it to Chuck E. Cheese where they live for that shit. The people who work there love it when they have a room full of screaming babies. Or better yet, order in. We have take out menus. Just don't sit in my station.
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