Of Waffles and Wenches

“People are always like…‘You’re too pretty to be working at Waffle House’”

The above quotation, and all of the events surrounding it, represents the most concentrated stupidity that I have been privy to in quite some time. On Saturday night I went to a house party hosted by one of my friends in Mt. Washington. One of her housemates decided to invite some of her friends from Lebanon, OH, or some such place where having a full, working set of teeth is to be envied. I hate to come off as some sort of elitist urbanite who thinks anyone grew up in rural America is a ignorant fuckwit, but I kind of do feel that way, and the events of Saturday night, most specifically those perpetrated by the Waffle House Wench, back this up.

There were many people at this party whom I should give cursory notice too, most specifically a scruffy son of bitch who wouldn’t stop expounding his theory that it was the right course of action to beat up a cop if you were caught with weed on you, provided said copper was alone and without a camera (The fact that all cop cars have cameras on the dash or that cops are equipped with those guns what that shoot the bullets at you must have escaped him). However, I must focus most of my attention on this one tragically slutty woman. And I use the term woman loosely, as any sensible person with a vagina would be ashamed to be placed in the same category as this turbo-slut.

I honestly can’t remember her name, but that doesn’t really matter as I will be referring to her using a bevy of epithets for the entire article. She, along with her much nicer, less whorish, but no more intelligent friend Brittney, apparently double-dipped by working at Waffle House and Hooter’s. The ho-bag apparently also stripped, which really isn’t that much of a surprise as working at Hooter’s is the community college to stripping’s main campus. Over the course of merely an hour and a half I witnessed this woman engage in the following acts:

A) Bending over a dishwasher and shaking her scantily clad ass to “demonstrate” to another guy at the party how she exploits old men for cash
B) Flip-Flapping her (most likely) fake tits up and down while surrounded by people who had no interest in seeing that.
C) Uttering that mind-bending sentence: “People are always like…‘You’re too pretty to be working at Waffle House’”.
D) Proclaiming that women should have equal rights, but only if a sugar daddy will pay for everything she wants.
E) Complaining about how her sugar daddy wasn’t paying for everything she wants.

Now, maybe I’m just too sheltered, but I wasn’t aware that something this trashy could actually exist. It was astonishing how shallow, amoral, and downright foul this woman was. I can say, without guilt or shame, that this woman offers the world absolutely nothing. As a matter of fact, it would be a safe to say that she actually detracts from the quality of life on this planet. All she can provide us with is silicone, vacuity, and a feeling of improved self-worth because, well shit, at least we’re not her. Perhaps that’s her charge in this life. She is the keeper of the bottom of the barrel, a constant reminder that things could be worse, that our gene pool could be shallower. As paradoxical as this sounds, in her utter uselessness she has a use. So, if you’re ever feeling like your life has amounted to nothing and that you’re spiraling headlong into abject failure, just go to the Waffle House up by Lebanon and you’ll feel better. Just don’t eat any of the food. You know who’s been handling it and she’s probably got Herpes.