When the waitresses walked out I fired
them all and hired three new ones the same day.
Trained them, too. Now I keep a HELP WANTED sign
in the window all the time -- to let them know
I can replace them at the drop of a hat.
I get about five applications a week,
and I keep them in a file for a year.

I don’t take no crap from no whining females,
especially during a rush. Their kids
call them, husbands call them, boyfriends, mothers --
how could I believe her kid got run over
by a car? Sounded too much like a scheme
to me, to get out of working the rush.

She says, “I’m going anyway, you *******.”
I say, “You go and you’re fired.” She wanted
to hit me, I think -- a man with that look
on his face would've hit me, but these women
play *****. Mary says, “You can’t fire her for that!”
I say, “Like hell I can’t!” Then Jennifer
butts in, “We’ll walk out if you do,” she says.
“The same goes for you too,” I say. “Try me.”

They tried me, but I showed them. I’d close down
before I’d let a bunch of ******* sass
me like that. I work hard for my privilege.