The shut down.

Today there was a giggling group of girls on Table 7. They were loud and rude and one of them clicked her fingers at me to get my attention and I really wanted to kick her in the cunt.

Be a good waitress. Be a good waitress. Be a good waitress.

I refrained.

Then my boss came downstairs and asked where all the racket was coming from. I rolled my eyes and pointed to the source of it all. She walked straight up to their table and told them to cram it and to have more respect for those around them. I felt something very much akin to the pride you would feel if you sprung your mother working for a charitable organisation on the sly.