wardrobe malfunctions for foodies. [epic poetry inside]

19 Jun

So as we’ve discussed in the past, I reserve the beginning of the week for some not-so-provocative outfits and today was no excepti0n. I showered, so my hair didn’t look like shit and my face wasn’t overly greasy or shiny (well it totally was by the end of the night but for the most part it looked pretty matte). But my outfit was a hot mess and I spent the majority of the day shifting my belt up and down over my medium sized flabby stomach and pulling my skirt down, trying to hide my bra straps and attempting to cover as much of my garb with my waves as I possibly could. I nearly went so far as to go buy a new outfit at the Emergency Macy’s down the road, but I’m saving my funds for tomorrow, just in case I need to take my babygirl on a shopping trip on our day off together. I think my lunch waitress best described my look today by telling me that I look “comfortable.” Not the description every aspiring sexpot business owner is going for, but at least it’s only Tuesday.

Something you may or may not know about me is that I am an insanely enthusiastic singer. Not in like a talented sort of way, more like in a loud and loserish fashion. For instance, right now I’m belting out “Young Hearts Run Free” by Candi Staton (You know it better as Mercutio the drag queen’s lip sync showstopper in the Leonardo DiCaprio version of Rome0 + Juliet). A slight dilemma I’ve run into during these warm months is that I really enjoy keeping the windows open, but I’m going through a pretty hardcore showtunes phase right now, and it is just not cool to pull up to a Jetta full of recent high school grads headed to the beach and have them look over at you and start laughing because you’re singing “Master of the House” in all the different characters’ voices at the top top top of your lungs. Since not singing isn’t an option, I’ve been spending a lot of time with the AC. No big deal. It’s not like burning extra fuel is expensive or anything.

In case you were wondering, that song just ended and now I’m groovin’ to “Ain’t Too Proud To Beg.” Now that it’s SYTYCD season, I tend to incorporate some pretty intense choreography into my performances, and this Temptations song is definitely no exception. (“So You Think You Can Dance.” Do you know nothing??) If you’re ever in a pinch for some late night entertainment, head over to the back of my restaurant after the sun has gone down and you can check out my nightly performances while I blog and listen to music. Just do me a favor and don’t tell me that you’re watching because a) that creeps me out like totally and b) I don’t want to censor myself based on the fact that I’ve got an audience.

This evening for poetry Tuesday I’ve written fake lyrics to a familiar tune. Writing fake lyrics to a familiar tune is an old pastime of mine, as I was pretty famous in Honesdale, PA for my songwriting abilities. In fact, if your kid is headed to sleepaway camp in the next couple of weeks, you should totally hire me to write her Singdown song for her. I guarantee a win or your money back! Anyway, here’s tonight’s poem/epic song.

YOUR WAITER STAINED ME

(to the tune of “Call Me Maybe”)

I’ve got a coupon

My wife has Burberry on

I want that 10% gone

Because that’s how you save.

You dropped that fork off my dish

And now my lap smells like fish

I wasn’t asking for this

I’ve had a real bad day.

My black pants were cashmere

Brand new, got them this year

Now they’re ruined, I fear

Where you think you’re going, waiter?

Hey, I just ate here

And this is lazy

But he stained my pants

So pay me, lady.

I can’t believe that

Your waiter stained me

Please have him fired

He’s very shady!

Hey I just ate here

And this is lazy

But I don’t hand wash

So pay me, lady

And all the snobs

Want a freebie

But these got dry cleaned

So pay my receipt

You took your time with my steak

You said it was a mistake

I thought I’d give you a break

But now the check is here

I’m not trying to steal

This is just how I feel

If you don’t give me a deal

I’ll Yelp you to tears

I don’t care ’bout your kids

College is overrated

My wife needs some new tits

Where you think you’re going, Shelby

Hey I just ate here

And this is lazy

But you stained my pants

So pay me lady

It’s hard to feel bad

My steak was fatty

So take my drinks off

And comp me, baby!

And all the other guys

Reimburse me

So here’s my charge card

Don’t swipe it, maybe!

*SIDEBAR: Just as I finished my post tonight and Nicole and I rehearsed this song about 1000 times, the entire thing got deleted. So fuck this blog company for destroying my precious words and losing what quite possibly could have been the funniest passage ever written in the history of the world, and forcing it to replace it with subpar, poorly edited prose.

*SIDEBAR 2: Nicole and I are equally bad singers, but we seemed to pull it off great so if you’re looking for entertainment after I’ve left my office for the evening, just look for us at the nearest pub. Also, thank you, Nicole, for remembering the lyrics to this epic epic epic song.

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