Story Time

It's story time, friends, and the subject of tonight's story is the worst person in the world.

For lunch today, I had an hour between my classes, so I went down to one of our campus eating establishments. It was a pretty busy time, of course, being about 1:00, and so there are a number of us waiting around the grill area to place and pick up our orders. Now, enter a specimen. A specimen who is too good, too busy, too elite to wait in line like an average citizen. We shall call him, for the sake of argument, Tim. Tim does not stand at the back of the line. The back of the line is not where Tim stands. No no, he makes his way to the front, in order to better survey his kingdom. However, despite this better vantage point over his domain, he seems unaware of the existence of all the other citizens whose orders were placed, and are on the grill before his.

And so, being that Tim should not be made to wait, he sees an unclaimed order sitting under the lights, and sees no one to whom it may belong. Now Tim looks around once more, and makes his approach. But before he grabs the plate, he puts his hand, his slimy scaly bare hand right on top of the fries, just to make sure it still warm enough to suit his royal palette. The implication here, I assume, is that he was perfectly willing to leave it there, after having groped to his content, if he found it unacceptable. But lo, he absconds with the prize. I say he absconds because he headed in the opposite direction of the registers, and slinks back out the door, towards the rock from under which he came. But that's not the worst part of this story.

A few minutes later, several of us are still waiting by the grill because we understand how things work, and who do we see but Tim marching back up. I see that he has already eaten about half of the burger, but has decided he has a problem. He approaches one of the gentlemen running the grill, and shouts "Yo... Guy... I ordered a blahblahblah..." and so on, shoving his order slip in the cook's face to emphasize the discrepancy between it and the ruins of his platter. Of course it isn't what he ordered. Did he think, by some voodoo ritual, that it would be? Or is he just that big of a jackass? Yes, dear reader, this person complains... in a most gratuitously obnoxious way... about not getting the right order... after stealing an order that was not his... that was wrapped in foil, such that he did not even know what it was he was stealing... and after eating most of that... he complains.

Congratulations, Tim, you are the worst person in the world.