"Rowdy Deadline"

If I were a reporter and had been deemed worthy of the big story, I would be writing it now instead of hammerin' away on ye olde keyboard.

My new job entails meeting quite interesting people. As opposed to the old one where I was wuthering away. apologies to heathcliffe.

But then the other night I ran into one of my old guests from Hell Whole.

"Where's the Pic**** Cafeteria around here?" she said.

"There isn't one," I politely replied.

"You manage this Burger King?"

"No!" And I'm thinking, "Thank you, Jesus," cos a Burger King is a freaking nightmare.

"I, er, manage a coppola bars."

"Which one," she asked. Btw, she was fiftyish with beaucoup dreadlocks and had on sox but no shoes.

"Er, the one down the concourse there."

"If it wasn't bad enough paying $5.50 for a Heineken, the bartender never gave me a glass for my beer."

"Well, we should but we don't always do it, because most people don't want a glass."

"I sat there waiting, and she never offered me a glass. AND I wasn't going to ask for one."

"I apologize and if your headin' back that way, I'll make sure you get a glass this time."

Anyway, after my ordeal, I was thankful to be removed from this behavior. Because the guests at Hell Whole were anal like this former one that was encountered by yours truly.

And if I were writing the big story, instead of.... its headline would Shirley read:

"Encounter With Rowdy Guest Leaves Restaurant Manager Shaking His Head!"

World gone mad, v.c.

P.S. Sorry. No postscripts tonite, unless this one counts, of course.