Turlock, California! I was 16 years old and working as a busboy at the King’s Table Buffet. There’s no better place to see the Sunday just-out-of-church crowd come in and treat the wait staff like dirt.
Anyway, from across the rows of tables, I saw a couple who looked to be in an argument. And the guy was really ripping into her. You know, pointing a finger in her face and everything.
And I thought: I need to do something to help this poor woman. So I went up to her and said: Lady, I can tell you’re being a real bitch! Now, listen to your husband and stop dishing up the petty bullshit that’s rotting your brain.
The look of shock on her face was memorable. Oh my god, it’s like she forgot how to breathe for a minute, you know. I’ll never forget it. But the best part was the husband. I looked over at him and let me tell you, fire was coming out of his eyes. Listen, punk! If you so much as breathe another word to my wife, I’ll fucking kill you.
I retreated to the kitchen with a tray of dirty dishes. A few minutes later I noticed them holding hands across the table. She was gently sobbing and he was consoling her. It even looked like he was apologizing.
Another marriage saved! All it took was a common enemy. Sure, I lost my job but who the fuck cares? I can now die knowing I did one benevolent thing in life. Yeah. If you ever want to bring people together, give them a common enemy!
Sure I was a sacrificial lamb in this case, right? Jesus got nothing on me. What would Jesus have done? Well, nothing to stop the verbal abuse. He’d just be up in the clouds laughing his ass off and reminding them that divorce is a sin.
Nah, when I have troubles, I consult a local busboy. They’re pragmatists, you know? Got a mess, sir? Let me take care of that for you! So, yeah, I’m pretty smart.