The common numerator of nearly all restaurant recitals by misbehaving, shaved apes (humans) is that caustic chemical called alcohol. Whether it be alcohol/moron or alcohol/idiot or alcohol/asshole, the end result in this math equation is the same: the waitress is forced to endure an onslaught of pathetic people. How she handles these customers will determine her survival rate in this industry that keeps these retards fed and thus keeps them in the breeding mode. This incidence involves a restaurant owner whose lust for money kept it open 24/7 in a community that has numerous bars. These drinking dispensaries are ways for young people to get started in their mating rituals. Not knowing what to do in these situations, alcohol is served to loosen the inhibitions of the contestants and, when forced to close by law, sends the pack scurrying to feeding farms to show the females their provision procurement skills. Here comes Sam, a man lost in both youth and alcoholism, stumbling into the 2AM cuisine crib to try his luck in swooning a babe. Drunk, but understandable, Sam picks on the female manager who thought management would be an upgrade. Wrong. He demands to be seated immediately in a crowded establishment that contains about 50 of his breed: stupid and happy. After looking at the menu and not finding what he wants, he is vocal in his assessment of this location and proceeds to tell the crowd that they have inadvertently stumbled into a bait shop. Rattling off his version of the fare, he lets loose with a selection of sauteed shiners, crispy chubs, magnificent minnows marinating in sauces, and a host of other delectable dishes. The only thing preventing this idiot from getting his ass kicked is his wit. With the restaurant laughing uncontrollably, the poor manager calls the MAN and when the cop appears, he too breaks out laughing as this retard recites his rendition of his fish favorites. How do you survive in this type of environment? Oh yeah: you drink.

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