What's up everyone? You know Negroes are always late for everything! (I just noticed that I have a Google ad on my site that says, "Stop Racism". SMH...) I'm checking in from my cave of fishy goodness to let yall know about some awesome stuff that I've seen this week.
Ali of El Vermino Boulevard is taking a bit of a breather; Where the hell are all of the St. Paddy's Day winos?
Bitter over at bitterwaitress is reminding me again of why I love her, especially because of her STD. Old people suck fuzzy kitties out of drainpipes!
Bitchy Waitress at "At Least Call Me Miss" is totally right on the money with this one. I'm so sick of fucking stuff up while trying to meet a goal for speed. You don't have to go nursing-home slow to take a minute and make sure your shit is correct.
Restaurant Gal is back, and reviewing a restaurant-themed movie I have been curious about for quite awhile. Great review! Might even be worth hunting the bootleg man down for!
Ah! Ryan! I serve idiots, too! I totally would have slipped some Visine in the drink of any yuppie-in-training with a mouth like that. Jesus Christ!
Upset Waitress almost made me crap myself from laughing. Long live blogging, dammit!
Manuel at the Well Done Fillet is being mildly horrified by obese, gangsta whales; But sometimes, customers are the most satisfying form of entertainment, especially when they tip 25%.
Lobster Boy (My brothafromanothamotha) struck a nerve with me in this old-school post. Why are some people such cheap bitches? SMH... You can always see the scammers 50 miles away.
Waiter Rant shows us again that arrogant, snarky SOBs are easily manipulated: They can and should be taken advantage of as much as possible.
Ribeye, I have a suggestion. When these little vag-heads try to buy drinks underage, agree, and use rubbing alcohol in place of whater liquor they request.
Tony Dine, I see you! :) I think that "wine experts" (or old farts with too much time and money who eat out WAY too much) just need a few puffs of reefer before the meal. It will make Wild Irish Rose taste like a $80 vintage wine.
And finally, I am going to start making up for lost time, with an explanation for my tardiness here at the Seafood Department. Next week's Round Table will be hosted over at El Vermino Boulevard... Big ups to Ribeye for allowing me to host this week! Although I'm sure Affirmative Action played a major part ;-) .
The links should work this time, thanks to Ribeye doing some editing.
Showing posts with label Cryptkeepers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cryptkeepers. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
SMH.
Lent was anti-climatic like a mofo. I truly expected buisness to be jumpin like Taco Bell on Cinco de Mayo, but it was just a normal, steady day. We got a 100.05 on the Health Department's walk.
Yay! I got in at ten thirty, having just woke up that morning at about ten fifteen, and damn near wrecking my car trying to get there on time. Clay was moping around at the front counter, looking like someone pissed in his cornflakes. It was Wednesday, and there were tons of cryptkeepers walking, fresh from Mass, looking extremely butthurt because they actually had to spend some money and not just wait until tomorrow(Cryptkeeper discount Thursdays, Yeeyyy). I started noticing something, very early in the morning. First I just saw an old lady, with a dusky-looking grey bruise on her forehead. I didn't ask her anything; it's rude, and older people tend to bruise easily. But after her, there was an older couple sporting the same type of bruise. Then an older man, and another couple. I started to get a little nosy. We got busy after lunchtime, selling hella cod, tilapia, and catfish, and a middle aged woman with too loud boys stopped by for a pound of cod. She had the "mark" too. My curiousity finally overpowered my good sense, and I asked her, "Maam? Did you know that you have some paint or makeup on your forehead?" She looked confused for a second, then said "Oh! The ashes! Today is Ash Wednesday. It's a Catholic holiday, and when you go to Mass, you have ashes put on your forehead........" I could feel a spiritual long winded speech brewing, so interjected with, "Wow, thanks for telling me!" All this time, I was seriously starting to think that there was some type of Cryptkeeper's Fight Club meeting that that they'd all gotten a little too enthusiastic in. Kind of hilarious if you think about it, but the day got weirder. A man came in a few hours later, needing some King Crab Legs. We have the XL 6-9 size,(per 10lbs) and they were on "sale" for $12.99plb. He wanted some frozen ones, which I brought out, right before I noticed he was blowing and picking his damn nose, and he immediately started peeking over the counter, then ducking to try and look throught the case glass, and then standing on his tiptoes to peek again, like some retarted ferret. "Sir, would you like to see the crab legs? I'll bring them around the..." Next thing I know, Foolio is trying to walk into our department in his scuffed-ass tennis shoes and no hairnet. Loss Prevention's worst fucking nightmare. I'm strugging to hold up the flimsy, damp box, which is starting to fold under the weight of the legs, and shuffling through the legs at the same time when this ass-pirate reaches in the box with his filthy hands and starts grabbing legs. Ugh!!! I made a mental note to never buy any more legs there unless the plastic is still holding the box together. "Sir!! Would you like some gloves or something?! Because you.." "NO, I'm fine," he wheezed, making me want to poke his eyes out with the legs he was discarding in one half of the box because they were not "fat enough". "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put some gloves on, if you want to look through them like this. It's not sanitary, and I could really get in a lot of trouble!" He paused for just a moment. "Welllllll, I guess I don't want you to get in trouble. I'll take these two,", he said plunking two huge legs on the top of the stainless steel counter, "and you find me two more that look just like that." With that said, he tooted a few more boogies into his tissue, and stepped back, expectantly. What a fucktard! My soon to be Seafood Manager, Mentos (I'm looking at a box of Mentos and cannot think of a nickname for her) said I was correct to ask him to put some gloves on those nasty mitts. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful, though..
Yay! I got in at ten thirty, having just woke up that morning at about ten fifteen, and damn near wrecking my car trying to get there on time. Clay was moping around at the front counter, looking like someone pissed in his cornflakes. It was Wednesday, and there were tons of cryptkeepers walking, fresh from Mass, looking extremely butthurt because they actually had to spend some money and not just wait until tomorrow(Cryptkeeper discount Thursdays, Yeeyyy). I started noticing something, very early in the morning. First I just saw an old lady, with a dusky-looking grey bruise on her forehead. I didn't ask her anything; it's rude, and older people tend to bruise easily. But after her, there was an older couple sporting the same type of bruise. Then an older man, and another couple. I started to get a little nosy. We got busy after lunchtime, selling hella cod, tilapia, and catfish, and a middle aged woman with too loud boys stopped by for a pound of cod. She had the "mark" too. My curiousity finally overpowered my good sense, and I asked her, "Maam? Did you know that you have some paint or makeup on your forehead?" She looked confused for a second, then said "Oh! The ashes! Today is Ash Wednesday. It's a Catholic holiday, and when you go to Mass, you have ashes put on your forehead........" I could feel a spiritual long winded speech brewing, so interjected with, "Wow, thanks for telling me!" All this time, I was seriously starting to think that there was some type of Cryptkeeper's Fight Club meeting that that they'd all gotten a little too enthusiastic in. Kind of hilarious if you think about it, but the day got weirder. A man came in a few hours later, needing some King Crab Legs. We have the XL 6-9 size,(per 10lbs) and they were on "sale" for $12.99plb. He wanted some frozen ones, which I brought out, right before I noticed he was blowing and picking his damn nose, and he immediately started peeking over the counter, then ducking to try and look throught the case glass, and then standing on his tiptoes to peek again, like some retarted ferret. "Sir, would you like to see the crab legs? I'll bring them around the..." Next thing I know, Foolio is trying to walk into our department in his scuffed-ass tennis shoes and no hairnet. Loss Prevention's worst fucking nightmare. I'm strugging to hold up the flimsy, damp box, which is starting to fold under the weight of the legs, and shuffling through the legs at the same time when this ass-pirate reaches in the box with his filthy hands and starts grabbing legs. Ugh!!! I made a mental note to never buy any more legs there unless the plastic is still holding the box together. "Sir!! Would you like some gloves or something?! Because you.." "NO, I'm fine," he wheezed, making me want to poke his eyes out with the legs he was discarding in one half of the box because they were not "fat enough". "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put some gloves on, if you want to look through them like this. It's not sanitary, and I could really get in a lot of trouble!" He paused for just a moment. "Welllllll, I guess I don't want you to get in trouble. I'll take these two,", he said plunking two huge legs on the top of the stainless steel counter, "and you find me two more that look just like that." With that said, he tooted a few more boogies into his tissue, and stepped back, expectantly. What a fucktard! My soon to be Seafood Manager, Mentos (I'm looking at a box of Mentos and cannot think of a nickname for her) said I was correct to ask him to put some gloves on those nasty mitts. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful, though..
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Senior Day
Before anything else, I wonder. Why doesn't everyone get a discount for falling in a certain demographic? Why not Asian Day? Or how about Fabu-Friday for homosexuals? Or Blind Day. Or Goofy Corduroy Slacks-AND-Crocs-On-A-Man Day?Jesus Christ! I suppose there is a bit of comfort in knowing that these special people don't have that much time left to throttle every ounce of patience, sanity and compassion out of my shrimp-tail scarred body. Every Thursday at Hairy Peter is Cryptkeeper's Discount Day. Fuck the fucking fuck.. Giving them this discount is like screaming at the top of your lungs in a bingo hall, "Free Entitlement Whore Lessons HERE!! AND FREE SAMPLES TOOOOO!!!" The seniors completley murder those free samples from the Bread, Cheese, And Deli Department, making little toothpick kabobs and sandwiches and shit, so when you ask "How are you doing today Maam/Sir?" you either get a "talk to the hand" gesture while they finish chomping, sometimes with their mouth open, or they answer you with a mouthful of food, spraying crumbs that are lightly scented with Sutter Home and dental creme all over your clean case glass. And that is, if you actually have the luck to get an old person that will actually return a greeting. I swear to bootleg, I try my best to say hello to every Joe Schmoe that strolls past the counter, but some people make me want to duct tape my mouth shut and communicate solely with sign-language. I greet them three times, getting louder each time, and on the third "Hey maam, need any help," I get, "WE'RE LOOKING!!!" Gee, you freakin AIDSmuffin. Maybe fuckin say so next time? Just a simple shake of your head is all I need, and I will leave you the hell alone. I promise.
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