I work at a certain restaurant on Spring Garden Road (the one with the giant yellow "M"). I also happen to be one of the backshift workers, meaning that my shift is 11pm to 7am, which means that every time you get drunk on the weekend and decide to go to my restaurant, I am there to serve you. Which is fine, because I love people. Really, I do. But when you get so drunk that you lean over the counter to grab my face or neck, or you tell me blatantly that I have "nice tits" as you stare at them, or you smear your burgers on the windows, I don't like you so much. Actually, I fucking hate you. I am not just a fast food worker, I am a human being! You don't just get to turn off your common human decency when you walk through my doors. Stop treating me like shit when all I'm trying to do is pay my rent! —I Still Won't Spit In Your Food!