All Over the Place

The Restaurant


-Where’s Chef? They made me bring back this Bananas O’Toole. Customer said more O’Toole–at least his socks–than bananas!

-Clever! For the usual grotesque pig out there.

-Well, what am I to...?”

-Here! Throw a sprig of mint on top. Tell him Chef handled it personally.

-Yeah, but where is...?

-Hey! Kitchens are stress! He’s in the back alley jerking off. Or shootin up.
Or both.

-Jesus Christ!

-Simultaneously.

-Handled!

-Oh well, wait staff regularly wipe the empty plates on their ass.
But that’s symbolic. That is, your trouser-clad butt is cleaner than
anything else in this establishment.

-God! I was down to nothing. I had to get a job. Anything!

-That why we’re all here. Management is full of shit, except in the ingenious
way they name the dishes. They’d screw you outa even our minimum wage
if they could. Actually it’s minimum wage for Pakistan.

-Why do you stay?

-Good place to score drugs. And everybody fucks everybody else after
our wee-hour parties. Even during.

-Sounds like utter despair! Ugh! More disgusting than Chef!

-Only at first. We share the tips and the end of the night is suicidal.

-No...impetus for service!

-Never has been. Ever. The vandals got the handle. We just do what we can.

-It’s Nihilism!

-You went to college! Just reaction of workers under continuously gouging Capitalism.