Crazy Eye McAsshole

Sometimes I wonder "How does Media Wave have such a high population of freakish customers? Is it because the employees themselves are freaks? Perhaps." I begin to feel self-conscious that I don’t have any funny stories about crazy customers coming to the restaurant I work at. Apparently freakish customers prefer to shop on Post Road as opposed to Black Rock Turnpike. I guess I’m just unlucky in that arena. But then the other day what I can only describe as a gift from God was handed down to me through the spoken words of a very normal customer. The gift of a story that reminded me of the craziest customer of all time.

First let me state that he has a wandering eye. It was the first one I had ever seen and it was GLORIOUS. Two bright blue eyes, one staring at me and the other staring at the drink cooler. The weird thing is that I couldn’t tell which one was wandering and which one was fixed on a specific point. Let me note that normally I would not make a point to bring this up (actually, I probably would) but this has a lot to do with why I hate this specific customer - that sounds really bad doesn’t it? Aside from a wandering eye he also has bright blue hair (to match the blue motorcycle his dad bought him), he is very thick in a not-so muscular way, and he has the BIGGEST ego of anyone I’ve ever met. The first time he actually came in to eat he told my boss (who already knew and loathed him) about how he lives with his parents and how all the housewives on his street call him over after their husbands have gone off to work and about how all the "gay guys" at the bars always hit on him. This guy is one big winner in his own book - in mine he’s a liar who is trying to impress two women working at a restaurant both of whom would rather die than carry on a conversation with him. It really is painful to talk to someone like that.

So every time I see him pull up on his motorcycle, which is quite often since he gets his hair dyed next door, I pray to Jesus Christ his only son our Lord that he won’t come talk to me. Jesus and I have beef with each other and therefore, more often than not Crazy Eye comes and brags. To be more specific he either brags or he rips one of the other customers a new asshole. That’s the really freakish thing about this guy. He gives other customers "advice" in a sort of shit throwing way. One time I watched him as he stared at two guys that were eating lunch two tables down from him and as he gets up to leave he comes up to one of the guys and says in a loud voice, "You should really go to the doctor for your leg." the guy looks at him and kind of smiles like Crazy Eye is making a joke. But he’s not. He then goes on to tell him, "The whole time I was trying to eat you kept shaking your leg and it was moving my table. That’s really rude and there must be something wrong with your leg. I would definitely go to the doctor about that." And then he storms out like someone has just royally offended him. The two guys start laughing at each other because nobody can believe what just happened. They look at me like, "What the hell?" and I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "Yea. He’s one of our more special customers."


Then the other day I have a customer ask me, "Hey do you know a guy that eats here who has bright blue hair?" and I said, "Yea." hoping that this guy wasn’t a friend of Crazy Eye. The guy says, "Last time I was in here with my ten year old son and he (the guys son) was trying to tell me that he wanted some flan. And I couldn’t understand him. He kept saying "Flan" and I would say "What?". This happened a couple of times because I didn’t even know what flan was. Then this guy with blue hair who was apparently listening to us comes up to me and says, ‘You should really get your kid some help. He’s having trouble pronouncing simple words. The kids trying to tell you that he wants filet mignon. You should really work with him on his vocabulary." And the customer who is telling me this story is sitting there with his son and his son tells me that Crazy Eye was actually making fun of him about it. Crazy Eye thought that a ten year old boy was asking his father for filet mignon at a MEXICAN FOOD RESTAURANT. Of all the things to interpret the sound of "flan" as, filet mignon would not have been at the top of my list.

Sometimes I feel bad for Crazy Eye though, his stories are obviously not at all true and he only tells them to look cooler, which is something he badly needs. Maybe his outbursts are his way of letting out his frustrations with his Crazy Eye life. So what if he gives a ten-year old kid a complex about the way he talks? At least the kid’s eyes can focus on one single object - that’s more than Crazy Eye can say. Sometimes I think I’d like to give shit throwing advice to customers too. Maybe one day he’ll walk in to the store with a towel from next door still wrapped around his shoulders, his head covered in fresh neon blue dye, one of his eyes will look deep into mine and he’ll ask me to run away with him to his parents house and if he catches me on a particularly desperate day maybe I’ll say "Sure. Wait. Are you talking to me? Or that girl over by the drink cooler?"
Kina