I Hate Clam Chowder or “We KNOW how badly you need to get laid”

I hate clam chowder.

And not just because it is seafood mixed with dairy and smells like a dolphin’s butt, but because I have been covered in it since I was 18 years old.

My first job was at a steak and seafood house in Burbank California. It had five huge banquet rooms (two of which were full fledged ballrooms) a golf course and a luau pit. We had weddings and funerals.

We had an 80s style Sunday Brunch with 15 kinds of fancy jello (old people like jello) and prime rib.

It was a haven for “The Newly Wed and The Nearly Dead.”

I heard that a disgruntled employee tried to burn it down a few years back.

I have an alibi I swear.

Bitch I SAID I wanted it WELL DONE!!!!!

And we had clam chowder Every. Single. Day. Red and white. Thick and thin.

I LOATHE clam chowder.

And now we are full circle. Because I swear on a stack of bibles I am on my last legs as a waitress.


I can hardly walk anymore.

The restaurant that I am working in is a corporate seafood place.

Clam chowder. Red and white. Everyday.

On my shoes.

In my hair.

Up my nose.

Sometimes I come home and I look like I’m lactating clam chowder.

And of course I still work at THE LODGE on Fridays.

And since it is 1978 in there on a good day we have clam chowder every Friday. Sometimes we still have it on Saturdays as well.


And both places are full of cranky old people.

I have a couple of theories regarding the elderly and nasty customers in general.

First of all people over the age of 70 (generous number) are either still vital, happy and engaged, or they have given up and are just waiting around to die.

Their interactions with service people are a fabulous clue as to which category they fall in.

The other day the music was a little loud and an elderly woman began berating me about it while holding her head as if someone had just inserted a shunt into her skull.

“That music is SOOO loud! You people are catering to 20 year olds!”
“Ma’am that is the Commodores. They have not recorded anything since 1975.”

Yes I did. I couldn’t help it.

Second if you are nasty with service people on a regular basis you are just telling the world (and your server):

1. How badly you need to have sex OR how lousy you are at sex.

I’m just sayin’. That’s what I am thinking about you as you roll on behaving like a twat.

Worst case scenario you are absolutely foul of temper, humorless, and the cork in your behind is visible at the back of your throat. Then you mention your children to me and all I can think is

Someone actually had sex with you!? HOLY CRAP!!!! What happened?!

Did you shut your eyes and think of the queen?

Was there a roofy involved?

Has your body been possessed by an evil twat demon that stole your soul and rendered you sexless and humorless?

Awe….poor baby. Now I just feel sorry for you.

May an angel of mercy tie you up and set you free.
Or may you drown in a pool of luke warm clam chowder.


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