Ramblings From an Apathetic Adult Baby

From Justin Gawel: Eccentric Dirtbag

Give Me My Check Now

This experience has been highly objectionable and I want it to end as soon as possible.  I’ve watched this waitress saunter about the restaurant, feigning laughter and genuine interest in customers’ stories while permitting that smallest of small talk to gush out of her dolled-up face socket.  Yes, Toots, that’s right, your overly-projected conversation about it raining two days in a row is not fascinating to anyone.  It’s odd to make a point of something being unremarkable, but that quip was not conversation-worthy in the slightest.  You’ve exhibited a blatantly offensive lack of self-awareness when you didn’t even hesitate before launching into that monotonous monologue.  Initially, I thought it might be an isolated incident, but not three minutes later you started in on a tirade about your mild dislike of lentils. Honestly, everyone’s life’s too short to listen to that.


Release me from this tediously droning waking terror and bring me my check.  I know I don’t like you, but you can be my angel and set me free.


My high-school guidance counselor explicitly explained that I was not a people person.  He advised a “career” in becoming mildly injured and collecting government disability checks while I frittered away sixty years alone through microwavable cheese-based foods and daytime TV.   Young and idealistic, I was convinced he was wrong, but as I sit here today, fantasizing about this waitress contracting a severe case of lockjaw, I’m recognizing the accuracy of my guidance counselor’s diagnosis.


Whenever a waitress starts in with a personal story or anecdote, my appetite becomes forcefully suppressed. Impulsively, I’m flooded with a desire to bolt to the nearest gas station and eat a cold hot pocket in my car in lieu of continuing this unfortunate exchange.  Sadly, this restaurant is in one of those neighborhoods where the convenience stores only sell malt liquor, lottery tickets, and other non-hot-pocket remedies to sadness.


I think this waitress knows exactly what she’s doing; it’s this passive-aggressive demeanor that she knows rips me up inside like a misguided owl just going hard and fierce on the face and scalp of kid with a filthy rattail.  Look, she’s just taking another lap of her tables then pretending she can’t figure out the computer. If I wasn’t such a devout capitalist on my way from my weekly worship at the First Objectivistic Room of Ayn Rand I would walk out.  I would strap up my summer slippers, light a cigarette to instantly put out in my coffee, and bid a good day to this time-squandering emporium of griddlecakes and pig meat.


Holy taco night, this waitress is awful.  Think of what would happen to the glove, ring, and nail polish industries if every carpenter, slaughterhouse worker, or sawmill foremen were this terrible and inattentive at their jobs.  I’m considering dumping this coffee on the floor, intentionally slipping in it, and bleeding profusely in order to get her to bring me the check and in order to start another frivolous legal battle.


This notion started as a conspiracy theory, but I’m now suspecting this hussie is on a power trip.  She must know my predicament, but who tipped her off?  Trust no one, everyone is a suspect.  This is why I never tell anybody anything.


I’m done.  I’m not playing into her game.  She can come over her and tell me all the excuses in the world about busy tables, about her irrational fear of computers, or about her perpetual bout with gout—I won’t care.  Nope, I’m going to do the adult thing: call into work, tie up this table all morning gingerly sipping my coffee out of spite, and top it all off by leaving a frowny face in the tip line of the bill.  While fighting fire with fire is not recommended strategy for putting out house fires, fighting passive aggression with passive aggression is always the way to go.

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17 responses to “Give Me My Check Now

  1. Chichina May 24, 2013 at 12:50 pm

    I’m with you on this one. I was once told by a guidance counselor that my intoversion score was so far off the richter scale that my aptitude was best suited to library science, agricultural studies, or possibly archaeology as long as it guaranteed a dig in Egypt away from throngs of people and the need for human interaction. How I wound up as a social worker in a methadone program working with opiate addicts known for their outrageous lies and intimidation tactics is anyone’s guess. Cheers!!!!!!

    • justingawel May 24, 2013 at 1:15 pm

      Wow, that’s quite a 180 from your counselor! Yeah, it’s always weird to try to assess a kid in high school knowing that they could change drastically in the next several years and be completely different. I will say that I found it hysterical that a placement test we took in high school told my friend he was best suited to be a magician over anything else.

  2. aregularcupofjo May 24, 2013 at 12:55 pm

    Great post. I was laughing from start to finish. Keep up the awesome writing :)

  3. Pingback: Give Me My Check Now | Ramblings From an Apathetic Adult Baby | Hey Sweetheart, Get Me Rewrite!

  4. Maggie O'C May 24, 2013 at 2:39 pm

    You need to write professionally. You are hilarious.

    • justingawel May 30, 2013 at 12:27 am

      Thank you very much! I’m truly honored to hear such kind words. I do get a little bit of professional writing work now. The article links to the BroBible stuff are pieces I have been paid a little bit for. They’re generally more fratire and have slightly different voice than the stuff I write on here. Regardless, they are also very fun to create.

  5. tric May 24, 2013 at 6:09 pm

    yikes my daughter is just heading over to the US and will be guess what …… waitressing! I hope you are nowhere near her!!! She is of course going to be amazing and will be well able for you. In fact look out and be careful or she will eat you for breakfast. Mind you I am her mum, God knows what she is really going to be doing over there.

    • justingawel May 30, 2013 at 12:18 am

      I will heed your words with caution! Far be it from me to ever confront anybody when I can just cower and complain about things online without confrontation.

  6. paulheels May 24, 2013 at 7:57 pm

    How dare you spill coffee so you could get your check earlier. Drop a plate, spill your sparkling Perrier, choke on a booger. Never spill the coffee!

    I love lentils. That waitress be so cray.

  7. argentumvulgaris May 24, 2013 at 10:31 pm

    At the age of 17 I was told by a major (yes, I was military) that I was supercilious and would never amount to anything. 18 years later I was standing in the base bar, now also a major, next to the man that gave me such a glowing report… he was still only a major. So much for career advice.


  8. floridaborne June 15, 2013 at 5:15 pm

    In those circumstances, I have been known to stand up and shout, “CHECK PLEASE!” One time in my life when the service was exceptionally bad, I left a 2 cent tip. That’s enough to let the wait person know that I was aware I was supposed to leave a tip and this is what I thought of the service. Plan to do that only if you’re never going to go into that restaurant again.

    • justingawel June 16, 2013 at 2:05 pm

      Exactly, if you’re a waitress where you have too many tables to give adequate service to anyone, well, the restaurant needs to hire more staff. I think I will use your idea of just screaming “check pa-lease!” if this happens again.

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