Since the dawn of time, life has been in a constant struggle against death for survival. One of our most fundamental needs is to cram our bodies with enough calories so we can function. In the beginning it probably wasn't very pretty, our near naked ancestors crouched over the product of a day's work, consuming what little they had while trying not to get eaten by lions or some shit. And I think that used to be everyone's full time job. Wake up, find food, don't die, go to sleep.

I'm no historian but that probably went on for a decade or two until we were in a situation where we could collect enough food in one day to last us two days. With that extra day, we now had time for other things, like building permanent structures and establishing corrupt governments.

Eating food somehow turned from a basic survival instinct into a convention of ultimate douchebaggery. Today, we have reached a point where food is so mass-produced and easily accessible (to people in the first world, who can afford it, which is like 85% of people so no big deal) that we don't even have to worry about trivial things like starvation. So now that we have satisfied all of our basic needs, we can focus on self-actualization, which I believe consists of finding things to complain about in our near perfect existence.

Self-actualization chart of needs hierarchy
"Winston's Hierarchy of Needs"

With that in mind, I present to you…

How to Be More of a Cunt (Because You Already are One) at a Sit-Down Restaurant

If you participate in one or more of the following actions or behaviors, you are a monster.

1. Make All Kinds of Modifications/Substitutions

Sauces at a restaurant tableModify everything. "I'll have the salmon, but with chicken instead, and no salt or oil, grilled not seared, and instead of the potatoes I want extra salad, and instead of the carrots I want a salmon." Don't worry. It's not like we spent countless hours and took into account the knowledge of centuries to craft a series of new and exciting dishes with a combination of flavor and texture designed to push the edge of the envelope, exciting your senses and providing you an experience Kraft Dinner can't.

What you should do is write out what you want to eat for dinner on a piece of paper and hand it to us when you arrive. Or use that same paper and take a trip to the fucking grocery store. Most of the times you order "sauce on the side" we forget and have to make the whole fucking dish over again just so you can dump the fucking sauce on the plate without it touching the vegetables, because that would be a fucking travesty and there are no bigger problems going on in the world right now.

2. Call Yourself a "Foodie"

Seriously, what the fuck is a Foodie? I'm pretty sure it's just a cunt who walks around saying things like, "Oh I love food, I watch the Food Network, I'll have wine with dinner, I own a frittata pan, I would tell Gordon Ramsay to fuck off, I can't wait to try that new ‘Dine in the Dark' restaurant, my palate is so sensitive I can tell you what dog food brand you buy based on Fido's farts." Eating food somehow turned from a basic survival instinct into a convention of ultimate douchebaggery. I'm sure these Cunties who spend $100 a course at fancy restaurants that require a reservation two years in advance and a plane ticket halfway across the world are the same bleeding heart advocates of "Feed the Children" campaigns. You make me sick.

3. Have Allergies

Why the fuck do you people keep eating in restaurants? If I had a severe, potentially life threatening allergy (or even worse, if my child had one) I wouldn't fucking risk it. Have a shellfish allergy? Don't order a fucking seafood dish that contains shellfish and say, "Hold the mussels." Do I really have to be saying this? Restaurants cannot guarantee 100% without a shadow of a doubt that there is absolutely no possibility of your food being contaminated with the shit you are allergic to. Don't put your life in the hands of people that would gladly see you dead.

4. Lie

The only thing worse than people with allergies are people with fake allergies. "I'm allergic to salt." No you fucking aren't! "No tomatoes on my hamburger, I'm allergic! Extra ketchup, please." Do you even listen to yourself? At least research your lies. "I have an onion allergy." No you fucking don't! Onions are in everything, you are a liar. Since when did the definition of allergy change to "I don't like that." Remember when you were a kid and you didn't "like" something on your dinner plate? You went to bed hungry. Yep.

5. Be in a Rush

Walk into a restaurant and inform your server that you are a cunt, I mean, in a rush. "Right this way, Geddy Lee. Alex Lifeson and Neil Peart are waiting for you in the dining room." If you don't have time for a sit-down meal, don't sit down for a meal.

"We have to be out of here in 30 minutes." Do you understand how much of a piece of shit you are when you get your table rushed? We move your order ahead of the patient human beings who have already ordered their food 15 minutes before you walked in the door. You may as well go to the washroom, look in the mirror, conjure a massive erection fueled and inflated by your sense of self-worth, and walk around the dining room sticking your dick into every person's mouth.

And please don't have the audacity to order appetizers and dessert and coffee after insisting your schedule trumps the rest of the world. I like to use the back of their order to draw a map to McDonald's and send it out on a plate.

6. Walk In with a Large Party

It's 7pm on a Saturday night. Why not get together with 19 of your closest friends and go out for dinner without a reservation. Do you understand how insane that is? I don't know 19 people, and out of the 8 people I do know, I can't think of more than two I'd actually sit down for a meal with. The restaurant is full, we have to push five tables together to accommodate your bullshit and everyone is fully aware you will request separate checks and not tip, after complaining endlessly about the inconvenience of waiting for 20 minutes for your table to be ready.

7. Forget What "Spicy" Means

Spicy buffalo wingsDon't like spicy food? Don't order the "Cajun ____" or the "Inferno ____" or anything that ends with the word "curry" that doesn't start with the word "mild." Someone actually ordered a curry "no spice." What the fuck does that mean? There are like 15 fucking spices in curry. Want something not spicy? Order a glass of milk, pussy. And if you do muster up the testicular fortitude and order the suicide wings, please don't embarrass yourself and men everywhere by ordering seven sides of blue cheese, yogurt, or sour cream. Unbelievable.

8. Order "Well Done" Anything

Cunt. Cunt. Cunt. Ordering a well done steak is a waste. It's a waste of a perfectly good piece of meat and a waste of life (you). Don't order chicken well done. When chicken is cooked, it is pretty much well done anyway. I'm not going to bore you with the science, but asking us to cook you a well done chicken is like asking your mechanic to tighten the bolts when changing your tire. We will both make it safe, so you won't die…that's kinda our job. The art comes in cooking the chicken long enough to kill the harmful bacteria while still maintaining texture and juiciness. So, fuck you.

This is by no means a complete list, it is just all I can provide without having an aneurysm. I hate you.

Continue to “How NOT to Buy a Lottery Ticket at a Convenience Store
” »