Saladbar Artists. Hurry the fuck up already!

I’m on a salad kick for lunch now and hit the salad bar every day at lunch. It never fucking fails that I get behind some fucking fool who feels the need to create art out of his salad while everyone waits for him to get out of line.

He/she has to stop at EVERY fucking item and take 1-5 pieces ONE AT A TIME and then lay them out ever so neatly on top of the lettuce which they spent 60 seconds rooting through to make sure every last stem was gone.

Next they get to the sliced eggs which they grab with tongs and then proceed to delicately seperate each slice and spread them on their salad.

After that they root through the onions and seperate the patties and distribute them amongst the plate.

Then when they FINALLY get to the fucking dressing they have to slowly drizzle it on like they are on the Food Network or something.

Hurry the fuck up, throw all the shit in the box/plate and sort it out when you get to the table or your office. It’s all going into your gullet anyway so why do you give a shit? I’m trying to get my fucking food so I can get back to my desk for the next meeting.

This happens every, fucking, day. Douchebags…

Art cannot be rushed.


They’re saladbartists! You’re wasting valuable syllable-time!

It’s a mixed media installation entitled Cucumberance, and I’m hoping for a grant.

…and quit cherrypicking the bacon at the breakfast bar! The four people stacked up behind you might be a clue you need to move the fuck on.

And while we’re at it, know what you want to order and be ready to pay for it, without comment, before you step up to the counter at that fast food place. And get the fuck off your fucking cellphone, you fucking dipshit.

Get in the queue earlier. :cool:

I worked at a pizza place back in high school. Nothing made my night more than to pick up the phone during the dinner rush and hear the caller shout to their wife “Hey honey, I’ve got the pizza place on the line! What should we get?”

We are served lunch and dinner on a buffet line and there are the same people every meal who slooowwwlyy choose their food; bear in mind we have three chaffing dishes: rice, a meat and a vegetable, then some bread and believe me this is not the kind of food you need to be careful about, it all sux. HURRY UP ALREADY!

I haven’t experienced this too much out in the world. But back in college? There would be guys who would spends DAYS at the big salad bowl trolling for what must surely be the last tomato slice in there.

I try to get through the salad bar line as quickly as I can, but usually there’s at least a little bit of engineering to do. Forget art…I’m just trying to distribute the mass so that no lettuce walls collapse.

Unfortunately we don’t have queues here; we have “lines,” which are frustratingly slower.

To the lady at the salad bar the other day - Yes, some of us are trying to eat healthier. However, that does not mean that the restaurant intends for you to mangle a whole hard-boiled egg or three because you’ve decided you only want the white, and don’t want to pay (per ounce) for the yolk. Because you decided to perform a yolkectomy using the big spoon, you cut at least one or two other eggs in the process, and popped out the yolk which is probably going to get soft and mushy in the bottom of the bin due to condensation, and no one’s going to intentionally buy that.

This makes me crazy, especially if you’ve already been in line for a couple of minutes. What the hell have you been thinking about while you stood here? Know what you want, order it, have your money ready, and for the love of all things holy, now is NOT the time to reorganize your wallet. Take your change and your food, and *get out of the way. *

And I hate people who have to write out a check for a $5 lunch. What, are bills to unsanitary for you to carry?

My dad had a theory that you should always carry some cash to turn over if you get mugged. He thought if you had nothing, the mugger would kill you out of sheer disgust. Good thing I don’t have a gun in the lunch line.

They have to write the check, because they are saving thier cash for the mugging.

Yeah, sorry about that. It’s my OCD. If I notice someone impatient behind me, I gladly move out of the way – no reason my personal issues should affect you. Next time, just clear your throat, and I promise I will step aside and let you ahead of me.

Did you know there’s a greeting card that depicts this exact phenomenon? My mom sent it to me one time, just because she knows I HATE shit like that.

Ah, yes - the “salad scientists” as Dave Barry calls them. There’s a local salad bar restaurant called “Sweet Tomatoes”, and the salad bar is duplicated so that there are two long identical bars you can slide along to select your stuff. Before I choose a side, I eyeball both of them, trying to spot clumps of potential salad scientists. I always choose the side with more men, as they just scoop stuff onto their plates without dithering endlessly.

I wish that the damn menu at these places was READABLE before I step up to the counter. I don’t eat fast food often enough to have the menu memorized. I MIGHT eat fast food once every six or eight weeks, and during that time, the company has probably had a couple of menu changes. I would be delighted to be able to read the menu and decide what I want before I get to the counter and have to lean over it, peering myopically at the menu.

I understand the frustration of the people behind me, and I don’t do it because I’m inconsiderate, I do it because I can’t read the menu.

I’ve pretty much given up on buffets. My appetite has diminished after I switched anti-depressants, so nowadays I often just order an appetizer and I’m happy with it. T.G.I.F. has an “endless lunch” which consists of iced tea, soup, salad, and breadsticks, with endless refills, and I’m happy to have one serving of each food item. I do get refills on the tea. It’s so cheap, though, that I think it’s worth the price.

I am convinced that the first optional (as opposed to medically necessary) bionic implant will be a cell phone in one’s brain.

I always just jump around people in salad bar queues or anything like it. If you want to take your time, do so, but I’m going on ahead, Johnny! Of cours,e if everyone is s l o w l y moving one tiny sliver of just-right-wilted lettuce at a time, then it pretty much sucks.