The Aristocrats

Fifteen minutes till close, this foursome walks in head held high as they push past the hostess to seat themselves. The man flags me down as he whispers a witty remark, making the three women giggle. "Three Michelob Ultras and an Amaretto Sour." Don't let the drink order fool you. These people are high class, these people are important, these people are...Aristocrats.

I give them a couple minutes after taking their top shelf drinks to get their dinner order. I don't mean to rush them but time is rapidly approaching. The man orders a couple starters. The lady across from him lifts her head from her menu to inquire, "What the fuck is that shit?" The group join in for a hearty chuckle as I leave the explanation to the host of this soiree. After I drop the appetizers off, I overhear them in a deep discussion about sexual acts with animals, from across the restaurant...

Seriously? It is unbelievable how these people have the gaul to call others lush and tasteless when they're asking me to recommend something that's not some weird Chinese shit! Your fourth Amaretto sour before your entree has even seen a flame isn't making you fun, just obnoxious.

If you are puzzled by our menu and everything recommended makes you regurgitate profanity, this is not the place for you. May I suggest an Applebee's or an Olive Garden? I hear they have fantastic drink specials and menu items you may be more accustomed to.

After I had taken all their plates away, I thought I'd finally be able to bid them adieu. But oh no! I turned around to see the gentleman waving me over. What did he want? He wanted to challenge my math skills. He was convinced that I had short changed him. In his Mich Ultra haze, he must have forgotten that he was drunk and I was Asian. It was time for this Yuppie to get schooled in 2nd grade arithmetic.

After the battle of wits and pencils were down, I emerged victorious. Unfortunately, his companions were no better and couldn't add in a tip...

Joke's on me