Hit me baby, one more time

Being a student again means also being a server again. Please, groan with me.

The only consolation is that I'm serving at a place far better than my last job. I actually want to keep this job, because they serve $25 sandwiches so that even I can make livable money here. Like everyone else, I have to take the lame series of menu tests: appetizers, drinks, stinky dressings, etc. However, the biggest test is keeping a straight face when a diner earnestly says something readily misconstrued. The problem is, with a mind this dirty, everything is easily misconstrued.

I've enlisted Boyfriend's help in this matter. His job is to comment as I recite the menu. It goes like this:

"...our french fries are hand-slammed in-house daily, and-"
"That process is very familiar to me. Take last night, for instance."

I am going to be the bestest most professionalest server ever!!!!