Last night an absolutely horrible family from Meeteetse came to the restaurant for dinner. They are horrible because they are cheap, inbred, filthy, and lack manners. They make my skin crawl every time I see them. I don’t think any of them are worth running over.
I lived next door to one of the sons when I moved back to Meeteetse. We had numerous run-ins, all of which involved either the police, the Humane Society or both. Our un-neighbourly relationship ended when he came around the corner of my house to kick my ass and found me standing on my deck with a baseball bat and a smile. He left right after that.
The sister had a kid a few years ago and it’s rumoured to either have an uncle dad or a grandpa dad. About a year after the kid was born, I was sitting in the park with my kids after the 4th of July parade. The sister, mother and the other brother walked by us and my daughter’s mouth dropped open. The sister was wearing green polyester pants with a blood stain that ran from her waistband down to God knows where. Every other woman on the planet would have been mortified to tears, but not this pig or her mother. I believe they see feminine hygiene products as a waste of money. The same goes for soap, shampoo, conditioner and regular bathing.
The mother and father are pure evil. The father went to jail last year for fighting with his neighbour. The fight culminated with the father laying nail studded wood on the side of the road in the hopes the neighbour’s horse would step on it. And he also tried to hit the neighbour with a shovel while he was on the horse.
Awful, evil people.
So when I saw the father, sister and her kid in the doorway at work last night, I started praying like I’ve never prayed before. I didn’t know who’s turn it was. I didn’t know if it was only going to be the 3 of them and they would fit at my 4 top. I didn’t know if they would request me. The sister likes to request me so she can yell at me throughout the meal, but even if she’s in someone else’s section she feels free to spill shit all over and yell for me to clean it up.
“Please God, don’t let it be me. Please God, don’t let it be me. Please God, don’t let it be me. Please God, don’t let it be me. Please God, don’t let it be me,”went through my head and came out my mouth the entire time the hostess looked for a table. If I could have prayed on my knees, I would have.
They ended up going to one of the new servers.
I thanked God a couple of times,and said a Hail Mary and an Our Father.
Then the new server stomped into the waitstation and said, “That fat bitch just slapped her kid in the face right in front of me!” If she’ll walk through City Park on the 4th of July with a blood stain on her gigantic ass, I’m sure she has no qualms about smacking her kid in front of a lowly waitress.
Awful, evil people.