Fuck these chicken shit assholes! (Sorry: journalism, journalism. I’m a journalist. My bad. Can’t talk like that.)
Chicken shit fuckheads, I hate you!
Fuck, sorry, these people are just so terrible. And also, I’m trying to bring “chicken shit” back.
Anyway, let me explain.
A waitress in South Carolina received a letter written on a napkin from a couple she’d been serving.
Usually, this type of story ends with her getting a giant tip because the people she was serving decided to make her day a little brighter.
Instead, this story ends with the couple behaving like it’s 1893.
In the letter, they tell her they gave her no tip because a woman’s place is “in the home.”
Jesus, who in the fuck are these people? What kind of world do they live in?
Like, have they been outside? Are they just handing out this sexist, soulless garbage to every “working woman” they can find?
The war’s over, guys. Women work now. Everybody is in on it.
Alright, let’s break down this dangerous language-poison bit by bit.
It starts off very well. And you really think you’re about to read a nice letter:
Thank you for your excellent service — you’re a great waitress.
Then comes the second sentence.
Here’s your tip:
Your place is in the home. It even says so in the Bible.
(Shit, journalism. Sorry, sorry. I’ll be better.)
FYI, the Bible also says you can’t wear linen and wool at the same time, so maybe it’s time we stop sourcing our life rules from it.
You may think that you’re contributing to your household by coming into work, but you’re not. While you’re in here ‘working,’ this is the reason your husband must see another woman on his way home from a long day at his work.
This one kills me.
First of all, she’s not married. Second of all, her not-real husband isn’t having a not-real affair with his not-real mistress. Third of all, what the fuck are you talking about?
Because you should be home taking care of the household duties, you may think what you are doing ‘working’ is right, it is really essentially a disgrace to his manhood and to the American family.
I still can’t get over the fact that they’re just assuming she has a husband for no reason.
And by the way, if your “manhood” is contingent upon the oppression and subservience of someone you dane to love, it is a meager and fragile thing indeed.
Actual adults don’t need manhood made of glass to get through the day.
So instead of coming to your ‘job’ and looking for handouts to feed your family, how’s about going home and cleaning your house and cooking a hot meal for your husband and children, the way your husband and God intended, and help make America great again. Praying for families and our nation.
Seriously, everything in this is both so horrible and funny. Putting “job” in quotes, for one, as though being a waitress is something other than a job.
And “looking for handouts to feed your family?” What are you talking about?
She has a job. She is working for money. I don’t think you know what the definition of “handouts” is.
Then, we get to the end, where, yes, we see Trump’s slogan being invoked: “Make America Great Again.”
I actually have a really good idea how to do that: How about you leave the country?
Mostly, I feel bad for this man’s wife, who has to live with him.
The waitress in question’s friends decided to reply – also written on a napkin – and post it to Facebook:
Dear lovely guest,
You cannot demean a worker that provides a service that you enjoy. Without my coworker, myself, and the countless others females in the service industry, you and others with your same mindset would not enjoy the ‘excellent service’ that we provide.
Do you write this lovely note to every female server you have?
Every woman who is a single mom supporting her children?
Every woman whose husband has passed away and is struggling to make ends meet?
Every military wife who is trying to pay bills while her husband is away?
And God-forbid, every woman who enjoys working?
The response letter ends beautifully, and I’ll let this article ride out on its perfectly articulated grace.
A female server who loves her job, and doesn’t give a rat’s furry behind if you think it’s ‘appropriate’ for me to work.
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