A Splash of Humor and a Dash of Asshole

Not So Funny, Funny Stories Vol. 2

Let me set this one up: I was 17 years old and realized I should pick up a new job during the summer before I went back to school for my senior year. My pops hooked me up with a friend of his who owned a small specialty grocery store and catering business. I landed a job making $5.50 and hour washing dishes and helping out with catering jobs. We had a huge refrigerated truck that we would use to deliver all the food and equipment. The cab only sat three people, so for larger jobs some of us had to ride in the back. It was cold as shit and you had to hold on to ropes tied to the sides of the truck or else you would slide all over the place. Now that you have the set up let me tell you about one of the craziest nights of my life.
Catering goes off beautifully, and the food was a hit. After everything is served the host of the party invites us to have a glass of wine and hang out before we start breaking everything down. One glass turns to four and next thing I know we are all doing shots with the brass band that had been hired to play for the evening. The sous chef and I realize that it is about that time. Meaning that if we don’t rally the troops and start picking up we are going to be found passed out on this ladies lawn in the morning. Next step, find the chef and start cleaning. Well, we found the chef, and let’s just say he was a few drinks deeper than us doing something with one of the waitresses from the party. Was he talking to her? No. Was he banging her brains out? No. He was recording audio of her taking a piss on his tape recorder. No bullshit. I don’t know why and I didnt I want to then. Wow. That’s when I should have known this night was going to be abnormal. We end up getting things loaded, cleaned and back in the truck. The chef meets us at the truck and tells us to hold steady while he goes and talks to the host about our tip. We continue to drink wine from the bottle in anticipation of big money. One hour goes by, no chef. Hour and a half, no chef. Just before the two hour mark the chef shows up with a huge smile. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a fat wad of 20’s. There was 7 of us and we each ended up with almost $200 cash. That’s a huge tip. What took him so long? Was he buttering her up. Was he layin down some pipe? Who knows, I was stoked beyond belief. Of course I took my bitch seat, AKA an upside down milk crate in the refrigerator. I wasn’t too bummed out though, my two co-pilots in the back of the truck were Chona and Veronica. Two sisters who worked in the kitchen full time. They were drunk and I knew would provide some epic entertainment for the ride home. The door closed and locked and we were on our way. They were both munching on some leftover fruit salad from the party and then it happened. Veronica took a fastball of watermelon from Chona to the side of the face. Fruit flew back and forth and what started out as an innocent food fight turned into hair pulling, face slapping and clothes ripping. I was almost too drunk to enjoy it but it was totally brutal. The next thing I remember it the door flying open and hopping out. They were both messed up. Bloody faces, torn clothes and black eyes. Somehow they ended up laughing and hugging it out. No one even gave a shit, they were just super pissed at the extensive mess we all had to clean out of the truck. I’m sure there are even greater stories from that night I dont remember. Moral of the story? Girl fights are awesome.


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