Here’s a little bit of advice – if you have a problem with my face, or just with people in general, then maybe you shouldn’t be working in food-service.
The Password is: SERVICE – To be a gainfully employed Food-Service worker you need to possess a modicum of personality and it is kind of mandatory to BE FUCKING POLITE!
So flipping WHAT if I made a stinky-face at today’s government cold cuts topped with government cheese encased in a government white-flour nightmare (aka a “tortilla” wrap)!? In case you didn’t know, this is NOT the Russian Tea Room and I’m pretty sure this was not your Celebrity-Chef Challenge. So do not treat me like I am some stank-ass reality-show judge worthy of your pseudo-Brooklyn attitude. Seriously, take off the Brooklyn t-shirt; your ass is from the suburbs.
It is not my problem if you took this job for the sake of supporting your baby-mama when you’d rather be enjoying your days as a full-time, tattooed, skater-boy, unemployed loser.
Why don’t you try walking in MY professional shoes for a minute? I’d rather wash dishes, chop veggies, wipe tables and listen to my fellow employees complain about the menu anyway! YOU take on Jar Jar Bitch for a while and see how far rolling your eyes will get you.
Who knows? Maybe the two of you will get along famously – two miserable peas in a miserable pod; rolling your eyes in unison at the FABULOUSLY HAPPY chick who now works in the Dining Hall…