I really suck at life, at least that is the general census. Ask Mr. Lee, he will tell you I suck so much I am not even worthy of waiting tables in Denver's trashiest bar. In fact, he thought I was so bad at it he even fired me. Ok, lets get real. I may have mixed up a couple of orders, mistakenly called a few bull dykes gentlemen, and doused one customer in a kamikaze, but does that really mean I suck? Maybe it wasn't any of those things that got me fired. Maybe it was because Mr. Lee overheard me talking to Jeremy about dubbies, maybe it was because I spent too much time smearing Gavin's limbs across the restaurant. Oh well, not like I liked that job anyways, and no I am not bitter. But I do have a few last words for everyone there.
To Mr. Lee: I never paid for my hot chocolate, my hash browns, or my eggs. Oh yeah, I am keeping my apron so suck it.
To Christina: Don't bring infants into smoky bars! Also, you're not very friendly, I suggest asking Mr. Lee to pull that enema out of your ass. It might help to relieve some tension.
To Constantine: Try just for once to be on time, and stop waxing your head. Shiny bald craniums are not sexy.
To Jeremy: Keep hot boxing it, just don't let Mr. Lee find out. We all know he has a very strict anti-drug policy.
To Gavin: I know you will mourn for your unrequited love but just remember; I don't do hippies.
No, I’m not bitter!