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Burt's Random Thoughts While Waiting For A To-Go Order At The Olive Garden

Friday, 7.26.13, 12:25 p.m:

  • First of all, yes damnit, I eat at the Olive Garden. I'm in the middle of fucking Texas, so first off, I don't have Il Buco around the corner from me and sometimes I crave a little calamari or something with fresh mozzarella and—-OK I just go there for the fucking breadsticks. There. Are you happy now? My name is Burt and I am an Olive Garden Breadstick addict.
Illustration for article titled Burts Random Thoughts While Waiting For A To-Go Order At The Olive Garden
  • Every waitress at this Olive Garden is drop-dead gorgeous. They all have perfect makeup and perfect hair. The hostess at this Olive Garden looks like she just stepped off the stage after presenting "Best Sound Editing" at the Oscars. I look like a vagrant who's been living at a bus station for four months. I haven't washed my hair in two days. I have smudged blue eyeliner on my cheek and the remnants of a powdered jelly doughnut on my chin.
  • I am making room in my purse for the breadsticks. I have to to hide them in my purse so when I go back to work my co-workers won't be all "OOOOHHH BREADSICKS CAN I HAVE ONE." NO YOU CANNOT HAVE ONE. I only have 9 and I have to parcel them out through the day and I will probably eat 2 in the car.
  • There is a giant empty waiting area, with two empty rows of seats. A woman waiting for her order stands directly in front of me, with her ass at eye level. If she farts, I can murder her in self-defense for this, yes?
  • There is a giant fucking poster of three gross looking 'meatballs' stuffed between too dry looking pieces of bread and smothered with cheese that looks like Elmer's glue. This sandwich is to classic Italian sandwiches what "Big Momma's House" is to film noir.
  • A couple just came in who are on some kind of a date. He is wearing a baggy tank top (the kind where you can see his full nipple exposed) and a baseball hat with the brim turned up. At a restaurant. On a date. HE'S A KEEPER, GURL.
  • Where the fuck are my breadsticks? How long does it take to put a bag of breadsticks together and a shitty bowl of soup?
  • Holy crap, Olive Garden has a bar. "Hey where are you going tonight, Suzie?" "Oh just heading out to get a few drinks with some of my girlfriends!" "Ohh, sounds wild! Where y'all going?" "Olive Garden!!! We're living it up just like them gals on the Sex And The City."
  • Waitress tells me the reason they are taking so long is that they are 'preparing a fresh batch of my soup.' Where are they doing that, exactly? In New Zealand? BRING ME MY DAMN FOOD ALREADY.
  • I have been staring at this woman's ass so long, I think it technically counts as a sex crime.
  • Not sure if I will ever get my food at all. I am sure that I will murder the next person who comes out to tell me my food 'will be right out.'
  • The bar has something called 'Summer Watermelon Martinis'. I'm this close to texting work that I will be out for the rest of the day with 'afternoon meetings' and hammering back about 10 of these.
Illustration for article titled Burts Random Thoughts While Waiting For A To-Go Order At The Olive Garden
  • After 20 minutes of waiting and starving, gross looking meatball sandwich looks really fucking good. A waiter with a tray of salad and breadsticks passes me by. Am literally about to trip him, so I can snatch a few breadsticks before they fall on the ground.
  • I just invited one of my friends to have drinks with me at the Olive Garden bar on Saturday. At first she said "are you fucking nuts?" but when I told her about the watermelon yummy booze thing she asked if they take reservations.

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