So I went to Luby’s for dinner. It’s a cafeteria. You know, stand in line, slide your tray along, person behind the counter dishes your food on a plate, get plate, pay, go eat. Should be simple.
So I get in line, behind this couple. Lady gets her food, moves on to the register. Guy orders his entree, then is getting his sides. No big whoop.
The workers are going along with their new system, one person takes your plate through the entire line. Okay. Lady takes my plate, dishes up my chicken, and asks for my side dishes. So I point out two items further down the line. Now here is where it gets tricky.
See, I go to follow my plate so I can be near it when she finishes and take it. So as I move to go around the guy, he gets all testy on me for trying to “line jump”.
Okay, so maybe it was a bit rude of me. I have had plenty of people wave me around before, so I just didn’t think. So as I start to go around, he starts saying something about “what do you think you’re doing?” At that point I’m ready to be gracious. Then he opens his mouth.
So he starts with “I’m with her up there, wait your turn.” Okay, fine, fair observation. Then he follows that with “What’s up with you? First your all up on me all faggy like, now you’re trying to go around, are you going to pay for her meal too? What’s with you?”
Apparently standing in line is “all faggy like”. I’m not sure what is worse, that he thinks that is some sort of witty retort, or the inherent bigotry. But I let it go. So I say, “Hey, I’m just trying to get my dinner, I was going to let you go by.” But that’s not enough for sir jerkitude.
So I stand there and let him move in front of me, get his drink, and I follow along at a discreet distance. Because I don’t want to be all faggy. :rolleyes:
Then he turns back to me and starts saying something about, “You’re not all there in the head, are you? Have you got some sort of mental thing?”
Now, he’s the one getting all uptight and making a big deal out of this, but I’m the one with the problem?
But no, I don’t want to escalate this. Because I’m thinking, I really don’t need to be explaining to the police why we got into a fight in the friggin’ Luby’s dinner line. I sure don’t need to hurt the guy and then deal with the possible legal ramifications. And getting hurt myself is not high on my list of things to accomplish. And I really don’t need to be calling my buddy to explain why I’m not going to be at class so they’ll have to make do without me, because I got into a fight at a restaurant over line etiquette. So I don’t say:
“I’m not the one freaking out over the lunch line.”
“Like I’d want to fuck you. Besides, your head is in the way.”
“Are you trying to be an asshole, or does it just come naturally for you?”
“Here, let me back up, so I’m not coming on all faggy.”
No, I just mutter, “Let it go.” He keeps muttering and giving me mean looks. Then they go off to their table, and I check out. So I go find a table on the other side of the room where I won’t be “faggy” and won’t have to look at him. Fortunately they split before I did, and there was no more confrontation.
Stupid Texas hick. The worst part is I’ve had this guy stuck in my head for three damn days. So for that, I Pit you, you sorry worthless excuse for a pile of manure. I might have been slightly rude unintentionally, but you more than made up for that intentionally. Thank you for providing me the opportunity to be the bigger man - not that it was hard being a bigger man than you. The hard part is taking your crap and keeping my big mouth shut.
