Diary of a Disgruntled Waiter: Lassie Stay Home

by admin on July 8, 2011

Diary of a Disgruntled Waiter

Lassie Stay Home

I don’t know when this started, this taking of small, pitiful looking dogs and stuffing them in bags, slinging them over shoulders and carrying them into restaurants. Some things are trends, I understand but some things are plain retarded. Baggy pants off your ass: trend (we can only hope). Sunglasses on at night (the sun never goes down on a pimp, right?): trend. Putting a Chihuahua into a Gucci or Prada bag and coming to a restaurant with poor Precious’ head sticking out the top, having the nerve to request a table and getting an attitude when your request is shot down: retarded. You cannot be serious, and if you are, seek professional help.

Yes, I have owned many dogs and totally understand the need to include the beast in every aspect of your life. I’m not a monster despite popular belief. I too sympathize with the American dog owner. I owned a Pug back in the early 70’s (before they were popular, before they became a YouTube sensation, before they won a Westminster trophy) and NEVER was there an option of taking Candy (May she rest in peace) to a dining establishment under any circumstances. She adjusted to being alone when the time arose for her masters to go out and do human things; such is the life of a dog. When we arrived home from dining out, 95% of the time she received the leftovers from the restaurant we ate at. We are not the only ones who practiced this ritual with our dog. How else would the term “Doggy Bag” come about? Think about it.

Nothing worse than having to cater to an animal while trying to do your job. “Can you get her/him some water?” “Do you have something for him/her to nibble on?” These are questions that should never come up while serving humans at a restaurant. Plus, something nobody seems to consider is that dogs pee and shit without much warning. Nothing says fine cuisine as a river of piss flowing down the restaurant’s patio on a busy Saturday brunch. God forbid the heath department cites and fines the restaurant all for your fucking poodle. Get real.

It’s not that I’m anti-dog or anything; I just feel there is not a place for animals in a human eating environment. I mean really, do you want to eat your meal with a pit bull present less than four feet from your table? Would that make for an appetizing day out on a patio? Why should others be subjected to your dog’s tongue wagging and constant sniffling not to mention the whining and the inevitable bark soon to follow? They shouldn’t be, bottom line. Have some common courtesy and leave them at home and let the diners dine and the puppies play in their own proper place. Oh yeah, news flash: THEY ARE NOT HUMAN NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU TRY TO PERSUADE YOURSELF OTHERWISE! If you want some companionship, get a life, go meet other human beings and stop putting stock in the fantasy that a dog has the same rights as a person. I’m sure minorities, gays, and illegal immigrants might agree with this last idea.

*Deep down inside, in the darkest recess of my subconscious, I secretly look forward to punting the next dog that trips me up while I have a tray full of drinks or both arms full with plates. It may be my last day of employment but I’d get the most satisfying “see, I told you to keep your fucking dog under the table” laugh that it’d be more than worth it. He shoots! He scores!

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Arik Evans 11.08.11 at 5:28 pm

I read this awhile ago but it makes me laugh everytime I read it. Maybe alone in the title make me think of the Sha. Keep up the great writing. I really enjoy reading it when I have down time at work!

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