Don't Make Me Throw a Penny at You

This story happened years and years ago, but it's a goody. I was working in this tourist trap in Times Square in New York City where food was way overpriced but tourists came anyway because it was familiar. Let's just say it was hypothetically called Houlihan's. On 49th and Seventh Ave. It was the lunch rush and in my station were three secretary bitches who were happy to have someone to boss around for a change. They ordered their usual salads with everything on the side but extra everything and lemons for the waters and separate checks and anything else that screams "we are bitches." It was a busy Wednesday where everyone in the restaurant had tickets to see Cats or Phantom of the Opera or anything else that screams "we are tourists." After a while the three secretary bitches called me over and asked me if their food was ready. I gave them my standard reply: "I guess not because if it was ready it would be here." Dumb bitches. They didn't like my attitude. Hmmm, can't imagine why. Their food came out and they complained about a variety of things. I don't recall what exactly but it was probably the usual: the bread is not warm enough, the Diet Coke is flat, no one wants to sleep with us because we are big fat snort pigs. I threw their check down and went on with ignoring my other tables. When they got up to leave they left money on the table to pay for the check and when I saw it I knew what to expect. Exact change, no tip. But then I saw my tip: one penny in the bottom of a glass of water. I fished it out and scoured the room looking for the whores. They were already gone, so I ran downstairs out to 49th Street and looked both ways. I had to decide whether to go left or right. I decided to the right and ran down the street, penny in hand. About halfway to Sixth Avenue I saw them. After knocking a couple of tourists out of the way, I went to the head secretary bitch and tapped her on the shoulder. "You forgot something at your table," I said. "Oh, I did? What?" "This," I said and I flicked the penny at her. Suddenly everything was in slow motion. I watched the copper coin twirl through the air as her face recoiled in terror. The penny hit her right tit and bounced to the sidewalk. I turned around and walked back to the restaurant giddy with pride. She was right behind me. I could practically feel her hot honey mustard breath on the back of my neck.

When I got back inside, I headed straight to the bathroom to hide out because I knew I was about to be in big trouble. After a few minutes of crouching in a stall, a co-worker found me and said that my manager needed to see me right away. I slinked into her office ready to be berated. My manager shut the door and turned around to look at me. I was surprised to see that she had a huge smile on her face. She told me that even though the bitches were in fact bitches and they deserved to have a penny thrown at them, what I did was wrong and she was going to have to suspend me for three days so that all of my co-workers knew that throwing pennies at customers was not acceptable behavior for our fine dining establishment. Houlihan's. On 49th and Seventh. Hypothetically. I understood my punishment but wished I had thrown a roll of pennies at the bitch instead of just one.

My response to being suspended for three days? "Okay, cool. Can I cash out now because it looks like I have a three day weekend ahead of me." After my three days off, I returned to work as a legend. A hero. I penny-throwing hero legend.


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