2 October 2012
The Night the Hillbillies Had Pizza
It was a normal night at Pizza Hut. People were shouting and rushing around. Customers were dissatisfied with their pizzas and employees were dissatisfied with minimum wage and were desperate to get home. And so was I. My shift was almost over, or so I thought. Just as I was preparing to count the money in my register, a large family waddled in the restaurant.
The first person to enter was a middle-aged man wearing a gray wife-beater covered in what appeared to be grease stains; there were also small holes around the bottom hem of the shirt. He had curly gray hair that seemed to be falling out in patches. His teeth, what few there were, were stained yellow from what was probably eons of cigarette smoking. Behind him was what appeared to be an older woman, but it was difficult to tell due to her fried, short hair and extreme obesity. Her teeth were also stained yellow and a her lower lip was jutted out and filled with what appeared to be smokeless tobacco. The next person to walk in was another woman aged around 20 years. At first glance, she appeared to be an attractive size 6 but she had crammed her body into cutoff Daisy Duke shorts and a white midriff top; her rebel flag string bikini was visible through the thin, white shirt. She had one of the worst muffin rolls I had ever seen.
That night’s on-duty waitress asked me if I would seat this family and take their drink orders. I halfheartedly told her I would. After being informed that they all wanted 2-liter Pepsis instead of the typical cup of Pepsi, they also informed me that they were ready for me to take their order and would not wait for their actual server. After being specifically told how they would like their cheese and grease covered cardboard concoction, I was also informed that my “little girl voice was just not quite right.” I decided not to comment and informed the cooks of their order.
I went back...