Ticket to Hell # 1
A ticket to Hell is a special little fellow. He is never bought and only ever earned. A dear friend told me once that I could always choose not to use my tickets, but I'm not sure they'll work that way.The first one comes from when I was the ripe old age of 17.I have always had the habit of speaking my mind. Worse than that, I have had the worse habit of speaking outlandish or brash things that I think will amuse my cohorts.
We were in St. Louis, at some restaurant I don't remember, and we are already slightly irritated at the fact that we couldn't get a table. Of course we are complaining now, and we are ready to get some service. I don't remember what comments were made; all I remember is that everyone was griping. It was my turn.Our hostess comes and takes us to our table, which happens to be outside. Shit. It's the middle of the summer, who wants to be outside? I start in. Who the hell know what's said...The hostess walks away and here I go: What woman would be stupid enough to walk around in those heels? As if that dress isn't hideous enough, we could be spared seeing all nine months of her pregnancy fat. Someone get her a tailor...and so on and so forth.Everyone laughs, and just like a bad Spongebob Squarepants episode, I think it's funny that other people are laughing with me. Now the waiter walks up. Excuse me, sir, but someone needs to tell that girl that we weren't really curious about how soon she was going to give birth. Maybe she wants to tuck some of that shit away and wear clothes that make her look like less of a stripper...laughs, giggles. He smiles. Then he says, that hostess over there is my wife and I think she looks beautiful. Gulp. Please don't spit in my food.
Ticket to Hell #1: Is a reminder that humor is only funny when what you are saying NEVER gets back to the person you are talking about. When in public places and speaking of people you never know, always assume they can hear you.
We were in St. Louis, at some restaurant I don't remember, and we are already slightly irritated at the fact that we couldn't get a table. Of course we are complaining now, and we are ready to get some service. I don't remember what comments were made; all I remember is that everyone was griping. It was my turn.Our hostess comes and takes us to our table, which happens to be outside. Shit. It's the middle of the summer, who wants to be outside? I start in. Who the hell know what's said...The hostess walks away and here I go: What woman would be stupid enough to walk around in those heels? As if that dress isn't hideous enough, we could be spared seeing all nine months of her pregnancy fat. Someone get her a tailor...and so on and so forth.Everyone laughs, and just like a bad Spongebob Squarepants episode, I think it's funny that other people are laughing with me. Now the waiter walks up. Excuse me, sir, but someone needs to tell that girl that we weren't really curious about how soon she was going to give birth. Maybe she wants to tuck some of that shit away and wear clothes that make her look like less of a stripper...laughs, giggles. He smiles. Then he says, that hostess over there is my wife and I think she looks beautiful. Gulp. Please don't spit in my food.
Ticket to Hell #1: Is a reminder that humor is only funny when what you are saying NEVER gets back to the person you are talking about. When in public places and speaking of people you never know, always assume they can hear you.
posted by Unequivocal_Prowess at 9:06 PM
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