Just so you know, I make $10.75 an hour to get yelled at about how a totally different company packages asparagus. They don’t pay us enough to try that cheese you’re wondering about, Janet.
I don’t know if you think you’re supporting fair wages by coming to this food boutique, but no.
In fact, I make so little money that the Lyfts I am forced to take today since the buses aren’t running will probably eclipse my take-home pay for this half shift. So I am losing money by working today. USA! USA! 🇺🇲
I’m sorry the kitchen didn’t make baguette sandwiches today. But you’re a goddam grown-up, you should do something about that pout.
It’s fucking humiliating when you yell across the room at me to get you more mushrooms from the back. I mean, it’s humiliating for you. I’ve finally taken enough chill pills to know that’s your shit, not mine.
Same goes for you, dude who throws a quart of soup at the floor like a toddler. That’s not my curse of poverty, dude, that’s your curse of wealth.
My employer might require me to smile at you, but I just found out the brand new guy makes 10% more than me for no particular reason. So if you’ll “have my job!” for not having the same kind of tuna you got here in 1987, honestly: take it.
At least it’s raining on your barbeques. God, I hate the rich. We all do. Because you suck. Complain about your Rhine river cruise to somebody else, lady, because we are not fucking cohorts.