Working in a restaurant is like(Part 3): Okay, and who ordered the pasta with meat sauce? *crickets* ...if your entire table has the shirt term memory loss of dory the f**king fish, I would have liked to know that before I walked out of the kitchen with a plate of steaming hot food. This shit is 450° Fahrenheit. Maybe it would jog your memory of who ordered it if I just took the plate and dumped it on your head.
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