Take the shit you ask for. Chips, beer, drinks. I get then down, you take them. I don’t bring them to you. I’m not a fuckin’ waiter.

Putting foundation over your giant mole just makes it a giant foundation covered mole.

Should I throw it away because you’re too incompetent?

By definition you can’t have extra lean.

“Where do I order?” Seriously? The register on the big fuckin’ screen that says touch to order.

You passive fuckin’ sheep of a person. If you need something and I’m doing something, use your fuckin’ words.

If you had a stupid kid, would you name your kid Ty so they could be guaranteed to graduate kindergarten?

Listen you worn out bitch, you’re 50+ years old. You go to the tanning bed one more time, you’ll be leather.

I know I bitch about people’s inability to order food correctly rather often on here, but let me explain. A deaf man walks up, signals that he’s deaf, so I hand him a piece of paper and a pen to write his order. He writes “brisket sandwich,” so I write $9.69, and he pays. Then he starts honking at me and pointing at the drink machine and the chips. Seriously the dumb fuck wanted a combo. How the fuck do you fuck up writing an order?

Her hair’s so shiny.

Don’t lean over my register.

Shave the unibrow.

Fish eyed bitch.

Stop fuckin’ whisperin’

It’s ugly sweater day.

Fuck. Brush your teeth.

Oh shit. Crazy eyed bitch.

Flats aren’t dress shoes.

Looks like someone shrunk her head.

I hate that moment when the chick talks and it’s not okay.

If your beans spill it’s not my problem.

Bill Cosby wants his sweater back.

If you can’t find a fork, then you can’t find a fork.

That lady just listened to me deal with that stuck up teen bitch, and referred to me as an angel for dealing with it.

If your lesbian lover looks exactly like you, wouldn’t it be less stressful to fuck yourself?

Obviously you didn’t get a combo. You didn’t pay enough, you didn’t order it, and I didn’t sell it to you. Simple. Really.

Don’t be that bitch that takes just long enough to find your money when buying an individual drink that the next fuck comes up to order.

Dumb bitch of the day:
Customer: Is that brisket?
Me: Yes.
Customer: That right there?
Me: Brisket.
Customer: Oh, I’ll take that.
Me: How do you want it?
Customer: Brisket.
Me: How do you want it? Platter, sandwich, or side?
Customer: I want that meat.
Me: A sandwich?
Customer: No.
Me: Platter?
Customer: No.
Me: Side then?
Customer: Yes. So how much do I get?
Me: 3oz for $4.
Customer: How many slices is that?
Me: It’s 3oz.
Customer: So a slice?
Me: Like three slices.
Customer: Okay I’ll do that then.
Me: So just 3oz of brisket?
Customer: Yes.
Me: Okay your number’s 43. Pick it up over there.
I couldn’t lie about this if I wanted to. Bitch walks over to my cook when she’s cutting her order for her, and changes her order to turkey.

Me: Brisket, sausage, or turkey?
Customer: Does that mean I get a choice?

First thing to know about not pissin’ your cashier off, face your fuckin’ money.

Seriously pay to get you highlights professionally done. This streaky, out of the box, drunken ideas situation is not okay.

This ho hum, depressed emo attitude makes me want to reach out and slap the shit outta someone. What, your Pandora didn’t play two songs in a row you liked? Go cut yourself.

Okay here’s an easy one, in the middle of paying for your food, don’t answer your cell phone.

Take your earbuds out to talk to me.

If skin is flaking off you face, use lotion or don’t go out the house.

You’re a 20 year old in a suit. I’m not treating you like what you are, a kid in your daddy’s suit. Go sort mail or some shit.

Use your fuckin’ words. You’re not six. You’re not my kid. You’re not a fuckin’ animal.

Who the hell does a side ponytail french braid?

Customer: I want a pulled pork sandwich?
Me: Okay.
Customer: Does it come with a combo?

Using a collective we when alone is weird.

Only a Coldplay fan would call solace an emotion.

Fourth passenger to bag collision I’ve seen today.

Sure signs of a bitch to come: eyes closed, pursed lips, and I haven’t even said a word yet.

See you wouldn’t walk in to McDonald’s and say “hamburger” to the cashier and have them instantly know what you want. When you say “brisket” to me, it’s just as dumb. Work on putting sentences together.

No it’s fine, let your kid knock over all my bottled water. It’s not like you have to pick it up. Cunt.

The West Virginia University logo looks like the Whataburger symbol.

You just gave me your credit card. You’re really surprised I know your name?

Dammit black women, I love you, but stop being such picky bitches.

“Excuse me sir, I just ordered this and I don’t know if that’s what I want. What’s on it?”

It’s damn near impossible to be mad at an Australian.

Get weird things cut off your face. The rest of us don’t want to have to look at them.

“Does the jalapeno ranch dressing have a kick?”

Dumb fuck of the day: “Can you cut the brisket into smaller pieces so I don’t have to cut it?”

What comes with it is not the same as can I have a…

I’m sorry, did you need my undivided attention? You’re very ugly. This prevents me from making eye contact since honestly, they’re looking two directions. Which one do I look at?

Last time, it’s tea, not unsweet. No one took the sweet out.

Here I was having a bad day then you walked up in combat boots and a sundress.

Don’t wear knee high boots if you have fat calves.

Of course it’s to go bitch, you see any servers around?

You should feel stupid if you ask a stupid question.

There’s a reason the bimbo always chews gum in movies.

If you can’t drink a beer in 100ft, you shouldn’t drink beer.

Who the fuck asks for a sack?

Was that a doily on her shirt?

You’re a TSA agent. No one ever liked you. Not in elementary or high school or college, and not now in life.

Listen cunt, I’d prefer not to talk to you. So if you want to be a bitch, feel free to not waste my time, and go fuck yourself with something sharp.

Wanna know why I’m pissed off all the time? Here’s a prime example:
Customer: Can I have hot water?
Me: Yes.
Customer: I need hot water, not cold water, okay?
I’m sorry I’m such a dumb fuck I get cold and hot mixed up.

Okay seriously, you’re fat and so is your husband, so someone loved you for you, but your kids shouldn’t be as fat as you.

It’s not a hair style if you wake up with your hair a mess and hairspray it.

Dumb fuck of the day: ” Do you have any other sides than what’s listed under sides?”

When you’re still at my register when your food’s done, you’re a dumb bitch.

I know it’s an international airport, but I don’t speak: Lithuanian, Dutch, Chinese, Mandarin, Russian, Czech, or any other obscure dialect. Don’t yell at me if there’s a miscommunication.

Word problem of the day: A lady walks up and puts a bottle of BBQ sauce on the counter. The cashier then asks the lady what she would like to eat. The lady says she wants the bottle of BBQ sauce and a combo. The cashier rings her up a $7.95 bottle of sauce and a $10.95 combo. He tell her the total is $19.68. The lady then asks the cashier if he saw that she had a bottle of BBQ sauce.

TSA: Government mall cops, armed with bad attitudes and hand signals.

Look, if you ask for a bag and I give you a bag, don’t do this yuppie, it’s not made from recycled bird shit, fancy bag bull. This isn’t Whole Foods. Take your bag and go.

What not to wear: Pea green sweater vest, white tank top, orange mini skirt, brown suede knee boots.

“Uh-huh” is a phrase coined by bitches.

What kind of pussy are you to order a Michelobe Ultra, let alone call it a Mic Ultra.

If no ice is more important than what sandwich you want, let me know.

Get off your iPhones, Blackberrys, smart phones, iPads. Get off them before you order fuckin’ jackasses.

Fat bitches, they’re called skinny jeans. Don’t wear them.

Holy shit man, I can smell your breath from here.

Let me explain receipts. You don’t get one until you order your food and pay. So asking while I’m trying to get you to tell me what drink you want…

Example:
Me: What drink would you like?
Customer: Can I have a receipt?
Me: What drink ma’am?
Customer: You’re giving me a receipt, right?
Me: Yes ma’am. Now what drink do you want?
Customer: I was just saying I need a receipt.

Me: It comes with beans, coleslaw, potato salad.
Customer: I’ll take double beans…

Why have a photo necklace of your children? Sure it’s cute, but it’s like putting your kids picture as your profile picture on facebook. Just want every person checkin’ ‘em out.

“Does anything come with the sandwich” is wrong. Try “I’d like some _____ with my sandwich,” or “I’ll take a side,” or “I want a combo.”

If you don’t eat carbs it’s important to tell your cashier, not get your food then bitch about bread and potato.

Here’s a question, if the brisket is 5lbs, how many will it feed?

Rollin’ your eyes cunt. You’re the bitch that stood in line 15 min to get a medium drink.

Don’t put breaks in your order. I push these buttons every day. I can keep up, I promise.