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Recidivist

Greertings and Christ;s Love

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I want to extend my best wishes to all the geeks I've established a rapport with - meaning one that gets my ###### hard. I want to wish every one a happy Chanuckah, a Merry Christmas(the reak deal - no disrespect to all faiths and creeeds) and ultimately the peace and sacrafice of self it takes to renuirte with love ones. God loves us all. I strive to be his vessell. He Will bless us all!

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:tebow:

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I want to extend my best wishes to all the geeks I've established a rapport with - meaning one that gets my ###### hard. I want to wish every one a happy Chanuckah, a Merry Christmas(the reak deal - no disrespect to all faiths and creeeds) and ultimately the peace and sacrafice of self it takes to renuirte with love ones. God loves us all. I strive to be his vessell. He Will bless us all!

 

Dude, last time I remember you posting was like axyear ago and you were making amends to people you hurt in the past. You still alcohol and drug free? Welcome back. I hope you'll lighten up a bit and not go all tebow on us. You were a quality poster before.

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Dude, last time I remember you posting was like axyear ago and you were making amends to people you hurt in the past. You still alcohol and drug free? Welcome back. I hope you'll lighten up a bit and not go all tebow on us. You were a quality poster before.

His story about the mexican eatery still cracks me up. :doublethumbsup:

 

No, it was not a Taco Bell. There is a small chain (three) of Mexican restaurants down here. Their food is pretty good and they enjoy a loyal clientele. They all share the same name, followed by Uno, Dos, etc. They used to be under one ownership and as such were fairly uniform and consistent. However, they are now each independently owned and Number Dos has slipped in quality.

 

Late yesterday afternoon I went over to a friend's house to drink, drug and kick his a$s in Madden. When his wife returned home, she announced she wanted take out from Numero Dos (the closest of the three establishments). I had previously cautioned them of their decline, but they were undeterred. WTF I figured, I hadn't eaten all day so I decided to get something as well. Not only would I call in the order, heck, I'll go pick it up and pay for it too. What can I say . . . I was raised right.

 

At this juncture, it is paramount to understand that Recidivist does not and will not eat cheese. I do not know how more clearly and explicitly I can make this point. My cheese-induced psychotic episodes are legendary. When placing an order, I go to great lengths to stress how important it is that my food is completely and totally cheeseless. I've been known to request to speak to someone else when placing an order if I have the slightest reservation about the initial call-taker's comprehension of the English language (yes, I could improve my fluency in Spanish, but this is America goddammnit).

 

I placed the order and was satisfied that my request for a "steak fajita burrito without cheese" would be fulfilled. I went to the restaurant at the prescribed time and was advised it would be a "few more minutes . . . perhaps you'd like to have a drink in the bar?". Great idea, as I had left my beer in the car and was indeed thirsty. I went to the bar and orderd a shot of Patron silver. I immediately realized shooting tequila is an ineffective time-killing activity. I promptly ordered another shot and downed it.

 

After 10 minutes my food arrived. Before leaving, I needed to check my order to make sure it was cheeseless. As I opened the lid, I smelled it before I saw it. Focking drenched in cheese. It looked like that Primus album cover. I told myself to cool out, they would fix it.

 

I politely informed them of their error. At first they wanted to suggest one hadn't been made. Stay cool I kept telling myself. Sure enough, the order had been taken correctly, but the beaner in the back neglected to take note of the "NO CHEESE" written next to it. It'll take 5 minutes to fix I was told.

 

Alright, back to the bar. This time, I just went ahead and ordered a double Patron silver. Ten minutes later, my food is back and looks to be correct - no cheese on the exterior of the burro. Cool.

 

Back at my friend's house he and his wife were aware of the hold-up and eagerly awaiting the arrival of their meal. We sit down to eat. I cut open my burrito and to my absolute horror I discover that they used the same cheese laden steak pieces. The outside was clean, but the innards were totally contaminated. These fockers do not understand "No Cheese". At this point, I'm still cooled out. I resolve to not be upset, I'll just call them up, advise them of their error, and request they deduct the $13.95 for my steak fajita burrito from the credit card charge. That's fair.

 

I called, advised them of the situation and my request. I was asked to hold on a moment. A woman (who turns out is the owner) gets on and asks what the problem is. I coolly and politely recount the events that have thus transpired and my seemingly wholly reasonable request for a refund. Her response? "That's not possible, as we do not put cheese on the inside." I told her that in this instance, it appears the kitchen violated their recipe as there is a distinct and appreciable quantity of cheese on the inside of this particular burrito.

 

After repeated denials on her part and protestations to the contrary on mine, she tells me that if I want a refund of any kind, I would have to come in so she could see this cheese covered meat I was complaining about. Flabbergasted, I advised the dear woman that the last thing she wanted was for me to return to her establishment. No return, no refund she maintained. At approximately this point I uttered my first F-bomb (in gerund form, modifying "nuts") and the line went dead.

 

My buddy, being the great friend he is, insists that I have no choice but to press on for the refund. In fact, he wants to come and watch (which he did from a safe distance while not letting on he was in anyway remotely associated with moi).

 

Upon my entrance to the restaurant, I shout out "WHERE'S THE MANAGER? I'M HERE TO SHOW HER MY MEAT!" The place was about 3/4 full at the time and I had commanded everyone's attention as I was speaking as loudly and lasciviously as possible. The hostess was just staring at me, mouth agape, so I implored her to "GO GET HER! SHE ASKED TO SEE MY MEAT AND I AM HERE TO SHOW IT TO HER!"

 

As she retreated to the back, I was glaring back at any customer or employee who had the temerity to attempt eye contact with me. Soon this fat POS (turns out was the owner's son) comes waddling out from the back. He got about 20' from me when I shouted "WHAT, YOU WANT TO SEE MEAT TOO?" He stopped in his tracks and returned from whence he came.

 

Soon, the woman I spoke to on the phone came out followed by her husband. They looked none too happy. I announced that I "BROUGHT MY MEAT FOR YOU TO LOOK AT". I was shocked that she actually intended to check it out before granting a refund. I obliged her by picking out several pieces. I would hold a piece up for her inspection, shout "LOOKS LIKE CHEESE TO ME!" and discard each piece onto the floor. After the fourth piece she told me she would need my credit card to process the refund. I told her that was "ABSOLUTEFUCKINGBULLSHIT" as she already had all my info at her disposal.

 

Her husband left briefly and returned with the refund slip and meekly stated that I was no longer welcome at Numero Dos. "THAT'S FOCKING PRESUMPTUOUS. YOU SHOULD REMAME THIS PLACE EL BANO".

 

On my way out the door I advised everyone "YOU ALL LIVE IN FILTH."

 

On the ride home my friend expressed regret in that he would have probably eaten my burrito dinner.

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His story about the mexican eatery still cracks me up. :doublethumbsup:

 

Holy focken shiit. That's focken quality. I remember nominating him for GOTY but I couldn't remember any particular stories. I'll have to do a search cause I know there were some other great ones too.

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