People suck.

Last night, the wife picked me up from work and whisked us to an Italian joint in Burbank. Wine, h'ors d'oevres, good chatting. Thennnnn...this cunt of an asshole bitch at the table next to us gets a rusty fingernail in her cooch about not getting immediate service (the place was slamming and there was only one waiter and one busboy). Her "boyfriend" - whom I suspect she was banging on the side because her marriage is shit because she has black pudding where her heart should be - shows up a few minutes later. She then brags her tits off about how cool she is for letting the waiter have it for making her wait.

Reality: He apologised and explained to her he's working the entire place himself and gets her wine to her immediately. She accepted and thanked him.

Fin.

So, our waiter has gelled hair, kinda spikey but not anything one wouldn't see on, say, Matt LeBlanc, and he approaches to take their order. First thing out of pudlicker's mouth? "I have to ask: The hair, is it on purpose?"

Jesus, people suck.