AT OUR LOCAL IRISH RESTAURANT
IN MY BABY'S MOUTH.
IN HER MOUTH.
My baby's mouth. The waitress's finger. The waitress's finger IN my baby's mouth. In.
We all know the stages of grief. Denial; anger; bargaining; depression; acceptance. Allow me to demonstrate for you the Stages of Rage I went through after witnessing this utter atrocity.
At first, pure and utter SHOCK.
Then...AAAUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!! OH NO YOU FUCKING DIDN'T!
SWEET JESUS MOTHER OF MARY GOD IN HEAVEN NOOOOO
What she said.
YOU! YOUR FINGER! YOU PUT IT IN MY BABY'S MOUTH!!
YOUR FINGER IN HER MOUTH
What's on your hands? WHAT'S ON YOUR HAAAANDS??
Wait, ma'am. I don't believe you did.
Who the motherfuck DOES that? Who??
I. CAN'T. EVEN.
THAT JUST HAPPENED.
Even Einstein agrees. WHO DOES THAT.
Flames. On the side of my face.
Devastatingly sad. FML forever. This may actually kill me. I may actually die over this. I give up. I give up.
I concede defeat.
BRB gonna go take a rape shower.
On second thought....
BITCH I WILL CUT YOU
Bitch I will CUT you.
BITCH I WILL CUT YOU!!!
In her mouth. Her finger. In her mouth. I just. I can't. I can't.