>>> The Hard Way
By staff writer Mike Faerber
June 19, 2005

If you’ve followed my column at all, you’d notice that I’m all about pointing out the down side to even the best situations. This issue should be particularly hard, since everyone already knows the down sides of work… and they’ll tell you about them too.

Every single day until they get fired.

For spending all their time on the phone making personal calls to you explaining how much they hate work.

So to stick to my usual strategy, I have to somehow convince you to like your job, and then tear it down again. Let’s just say I have my WORK cut out for me. Although I think that expression is busted. Wouldn’t it be more challenging to have to cut out your own work? If you worked in a stencil factory, once you had your work cut out, you’d get to go home.

You’d be surprised though. I’m a waiter in a restaurant where people get their own food. I’m afraid I’m going to be fired soon. Although, it could be worse. I bet when fireman get fired everyone laughs at them…well once they’re out of the hospital. I could be canned from my job at Campbell’s Soup, or worse of all: booted out of the military.

But here’s where it all went wrong.

Act Your Wage


Not since Adam and Eve has man used this much green to cover himself.

By far, the biggest complaint you probably have about your job is that it doesn’t pay enough. Or for those of you with lucrative gigs, it doesn’t pay enough compared to what you do. For instance, I write a weekly column for you people and don’t get jack. But we all scramble and hustle for the slightest increase in wages, which is what managers like, dangling that shiny nickel in front of you. In my case it’s the customers with their tips. If you hadn’t figured out by now, the fastest way to making good money is to demean yourself. The boss needs Yes Men, and No Women. No as in “No Bra.” You have to put others' needs in front of yours, swallow your pride, and move your ass. Just ask any stripper. Dignity is locked in an inverse relationship with money. I’m so used to collecting measly bills off of tables, that when someone inadvertently left a dollar on the counter at home one time, it haunted me with its presence. I ended up bussing the counter just so I could say I earned it. Actually that’s not true.

Some stripper picked it up with her ass cheeks.

I would have tipped her more, but she didn’t bring me any food.

Serving Sara

Was a bad movie because it didn’t give movie-goers what they wanted. They ordered the Comedy Combo plate: Quirky Perry Turkey and Hot Hurley, but instead it came out a little lukewarm, and the service was unFRIENDly. Don’t blame Hollywood just yet. A lot of times, customers are IMPOSSIBLE to deal with and are set on a MISSION to ruin your day. Even Tom Cruise would give up on these people—that is, unless they showed him the money. It’s a real shame people don’t tip you before the meal, so you can decide which tables are worth it. I’ve delivered mocha shakes to people, accidentally called them chocolate before realizing my mistake, only to return with the customers insisting they were chocolate too. I then told them that 20 dollars is the average tip, and waltzed over to a table full of girls and said Hair is the new No Hair. Judging by their reactions, my powers of suggestion had already died. Then after a long day with grouchy customers busting your hump, you’d start wishing you could spend a long night with the girlfriend, humping her bust. Suddenly, you run across one family that just can’t get enough of you. Everything you say makes them howl with laughter. The mother pulls out a stack of twenties, leaving you an enormous tip. Upon spotting this, you run out and catch her, asking why on Earth she would be so generous.

“You had me at hello!”

“Also, I’m a stripper.”

Co-Jerkers

Ideally, a workplace operates much like a sports team: everyone does their part, and success is the result. The problem arises in that much like a sports team, there is always one asshole who gets by doing nothing, and everyone else has to pay for it. He slows everyone else down, and makes the same wage as you. Now if you’re reading this, and thinking, “That’s sounds like a pretty sweet deal!” Give it up. No matter how much of a slacker you are, someone will always beat you out. If you try to “phone it in” as they say, he will “text it in.” If you mutter things behind the manager’s back, he will repeat what you said to his face and not give you credit. If you do absolutely nothing, he will do some chick absolutely in the break room. So you get pissed and finally narc on the punk to the boss. Congratulations, you got him fired. And now you have to cover all his shifts. I’m telling you, this guy always wins… except at LIFE…the game. He never gets past the part where he has to choose his career. So while you’re hitting Paydays (both in real LIFE and game LIFE), he’s still boning that girl. DAMMIT, how does he do that?! He starts explaining the coefficient of kinetic friction between genitalia and applied force multiplied by the cosine of the angle between it and the angle of insertion. Maybe you should give this guy some credit. After all, the only girl you have is a skinny pink peg. You ask him if he can offer you any tips.

“You should ask her dude, she’s the one that works at the Kitty Kage.”

Mikey: You know, you and I are in similar jobs.
Stripper: Oh really? How’s that?
Mikey: Well we both have to serve customers and earn tips.
Stripper: Hmm… Do any of your customers “flex” when you’re rubbing up against them?
Mikey: Well. Ah… no, I don—
Stripper: Then put the money in my thong and shut up.

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