Crappy mind of a waitress

So today was one of those days where there seems to have been an invisible call to all those people that don’t leave a tip. They come, they don’t know our place, they don’t know me and they are absolutely allergic to tipping. They use you for every grain of salt and you will walk back and forth for every drop of coffee.

Okay, don’t get me wrong. I understand that tips are not a must and i am usually grateful for a single cent and blah blah blah but come on, i have my days too and today i felt particularly crappy.

I had an easy line to connect with the customers today , if they could be connected to at all in this winter sordid weather. It was election day, practically still is. My advantage is that my area m

Unfortunately, the jingle did not follow the smiles, so my efforts were for nothing. However, it got me thinking. You see, i am a foreigner here in South Afrimage. Even though we are in the same continent of Afrimage, i don’t have rights here in South Afrimage. Therefore, i cannot have access to many things or have the papers to practice magic. My magic is locked within me. It’s a long story, i’ll tell you all about it if you stick long enough to listen to my winning.

Nonetheless, it actually came to my realization that despite my money intentions when asking the Afrimagians about voting, i had a wee bit of a genuine cause there. You see, as a foreigner, the place which i am least hated and where the most behaved form of racism takes place is the Western province. If it is to be taken over by the government that is ruling right now, it would subject the Western province to those whose hate towards people like me is unbridled. Funny enough, these unbridled haters are of my race…

ironic,huh?

Anyway, i need to go to a toilet break