So last weekend I was up in Idaho visiting Mom and Stepdaddy. Sunday morning I woke up and, because I’m so freakin’ gay for my iPhone I keep it in bed with me when Mike’s not around and sometimes even when he is, the first thing I do is check Facebook. Because God knows what could have happened overnight while I was sleeping, right?
So anyway, everybody’s all like, “Happy Mother’s Day, blah, blah, blah…” (am I the only one who thinks Facebook is boring as hell whenever there’s a holiday?) and I’m thinking I should post some kind of sentiment on my mother’s profile (yes, she’s on Facebook, too) and then I was like, wait a minute, I could just get out of bed and tell her “Happy Mother’s Day” to her face since she is, in fact, right in the next room.
And that’s just what I did, about a half-hour later. The worst part is, while I was being lazy eff-ing around on my iPhone, Mom and Stepdaddy were out in the living room doing yoga. How bad am I?
Sunday was a rainy day in Boise, so Mom canceled our dinner reservation at a restaurant where you can sit outside on the water. But now where to go? Everyone and their brother’s carting Mom out to dinner that day and everyplace would be packed. Stepdaddy suggested we go to Hooters, which I thought was a brilliant idea, but my mother was all, “We’re not going to goddamn Hooters on Mother’s Day,” so we went to Texas Roadhouse.
Texas Roadhouse is a chain—the food was excellent and they had a great brown ale on tap—but if I have one complaint, and you know I do... Okay, am I the only one who thinks it’s wrong for wait staff in their teens and 20s or of any age, for that matter, to address customers as “you guys”? I swear, the hostess who sat us said “you guys” no less than four times before we got to our booth, including this little gem:
“How is your guys-es day goin’?”
I just wanted to say, “Look, Ashley/MacKenzie/Madison/Tiffany or whatever your trendy name is, when you’re seating a white-haired couple and their extremely youthful looking daughter/stepdaughter, don’t freakin’ address them as “you guys.” I did customer service training for Fleet Bank years ago, and I would fail someone if they did that. Seriously.
OMG, is there no end to my bitching?
Have a great day, you guys!