Hey everybody, look! There's that bitchy ass waiter! Why don't we all gang up on him and go land on his face, you want to? Especially you, leftover tilapia mixed with chocolate syrup! Get over here, you crazy piece of smegma, you. And can someone go to the bottom of the bus tub and get a piece of braised kale? That shit is nasty and it needs to be on his face. Whadda ya say, gang? As soon as he throws a fork at us, we all go for it, alright? Get ready, here it comes! Three...two...one! GO!
The drops of water splashed right onto my face, some of it landing on my lip. I tried hard not to think about everything that was in that water but all I could picture was the man at table six who was busy coughing up internal organs all night. I wanted to ask him if he needed anything. Water? A napkin? An iron lung, perhaps? Now I probably had his germs all up in my mouth and within moments I would have a rip-roaring case of the emphysema. And then I remembered the lady at table eleven who was sneezing all night and said it was just allergies but it was probably some rare case of yellow fever that I was now going to contract. The water dripped down my cheek and onto my shirt. I ran to the bathroom to wash my face with industrial soap and lukewarm water.
No disease or illness has befallen me since, so the cleansing must have been sufficient. But it still grosses me out. From now on, I will no longer casually toss the silverware into the bus tub. It will forever be lovingly placed ever so gently into the water. I can't risk that disgusting happening being repeated. Fucking nasty ass water.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.