What the fuck? Why are women so clueless when they go out in a group to get dinner? It's like not only do their menstrual cycles synchronize but also their brains synch up to this wave of consciousness where they are going to try to substitute everything they can possibly think of and make every special request in the world and complain about the amount of carbonation in their Diet Coke refills and want the salad dressing on the side and split the check 6 ways and then think that if they each leave 3% than that will somehow work out to 18% when I add their tips together...
Sorry that 95% of the time that you go out to dinner you are making some man pay for you and therefore you have no fucking idea on how to tip or do math or be polite because it's girls night and you guys are going to complain that your glass of Prosecco isn't filled to the brim and why are you wearing bell bottoms???
Big shout out to the 3 sweet ladies that ordered the bottle of Muscadet at my suggestion and tipped over 20% and were human beings. It's nice to know that there is a balance in the Universe.
I'm drunk.
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