Ron's

Late last week, six of us from the office went to Ron's Hambergers and Chili for lunch. The group did not include Big Dawg, because he is desperately scared of Ron's. He's never actually eaten there, but he had college roomates who loved the place. Apparently they would go eat lots of volitile stuff, then come back home and pollute the apartment so badly that the paint started to peel. Big Dawg told us that when we got back from Ron's, he'd have a gas mask on.

When we arrived, we saw three "tip jars" at the cash register. Each had the name of a waitress on it. One of them said "Princess Angela... TROUBLE!"

Guess which waitress we had?

She was blunt, sarchastic and snarky. Obviously I loved her.

I caught her once as she walked by and reminded her that we were still missing one plate of cheese fries. She literally said, "Yeah, duh, I know that," with her eyes rolled and her head nodding forward and back like her neck was broken. "Thank you," I said, as politely as possible. "By the way, that's an excellent bobble-head impersonation."

She rolled her eyes even further and grinned as she wandered off.

By the time we left, I think she was actively plotting to kill me. I saw her sharpening a fork and glaring.

When we got back to the office, we all walked over to Big Dawg's desk. Each of us put a hand on our stomachs and said, "Don't mind me, I'm just waiting for something to pass."

Big Dawg just smiled at us through his gas mask.