…I think this spring:
Someone calls on the phone and my one (newer) (tall) (Thai) coworker picks up and then looks confused and then hands the phone over to me, and and this (younger) (flat-affected) (male) voice is like, I have an odd request, can you help me, and he then says that he knows his girlfriend is there and he thinks she’s cheating on him, so he wants to know, the girl with the pink hair, is she there, she should be there, and how many men are at the table, and I’m like, uh, uh, and then I say we can’t help him, it’s a customer privacy issue and we can’t give out information like that, and he says some stuff trying to get me to do it, and then I say I'm sorry, and that if there’s nothing else I can help him with, I need to go assist some patrons.
And, of course the girl with the pink hair is there, it’s really more like a dull lavender in her filthy unwashed nerd-hair, and she’s fat, and she’s at a table of five, and she takes a call and goes outside a lot, and while I’m over by there, she had just started eating, and the call happens again, and she takes it and with the phone to her ear asks this (skinny) (ungroomed) (pimply) (scruff-faced) (white) nerd guy for his Venmo, can he pay for her and she’ll pay him back, and then she hurries towards the door with her phone to her ear, and leaves.
And, for like an hour afterwards, all we do at the restaurant is talk about that situation, and tell other workers who hadn’t heard about it yet what had happened.
Like, my take was that she wasn’t cheating, but she has a roving eye, especially because her man is jealous, and that jealousy is actually driving her away, and to look elsewhere.
But, some people just didn’t care about that analysis.
“So how many men *were* at the table,” my one (younger) (female) (Guatemalan) coworker asked, after I had gone on at length about those clientes locos (“Crazy customers”).
And, the one (Guatemalan) guy who I started the diablo joke with was like, “You should say, Cheat? Him? No, it’s me, I do her.”
And, of course that started out a whole row of jokes about how we should have replied to him on the phone –
1) “How many men are with her…? Uhhh [pause], I think ten.”
2) “No, she’s not here, but I think I see someone like that out in front on the street, she’s leaning into a car window and talking to some guy...”
3) “No, she’s not here, but I think I hear some noise back in the alley...”
4) “Eeee, ah!, ella, ella? Si, ella, la puta…”
and – my personal favorite, which I came up with, and which I could not say out loud without cracking up –
5) “Oh, her? Yeah, she’s a freaky one, she asked us to cum in her pad thai.”
. . .
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