Oil Makes Ya Slow

I blame the oil.

Seriously someday a brilliant professor will publish an article explaining how the components of oil seeping into the groundswater actually turns the inhabitants around into slow-as-molasses sloths. Really. But you heard it here first.

So it's not Charming Calvin's fault. It's the water!

Or at least that's the theory I'm sticking to. Otherwise I'd probably run amuck down the streets waving a sharp utensil at the crappy service providers here. Not only are the wait staff irrationally surly, they seem to move at a retarded crawling tempo. Geriatrics with a broken cane move faster. I know indolent country folk like to take things easy - and I'm supposed to slow down as well - but this is ridiculous.


Well if the waiter looked like that, I might have been a lil nicer.
Now whoever said good looks don't matter.
I swore I wouldn't lose my temper at another member of the service industry but after twenty minutes of standing in line at a fast food joint, my patience wore thin. There were only two patrons in front of me by the way. Unfortunately the phlegmatic waitress serving them - and in fact everyone else working there - seemed to have been struck by a time machine.

Forcing them to work in slow-motion.

I've reamed one of them out before - when I first arrived. Prior to drinking the water here. Didn't know how much I've been affected till then.

Waitress : Here's your burger and fries.
Paul : I need to pay for this? This is hardly fast food.
Waitress : Yes, it's 10 dollars.
Paul : L-e-t m-e g-e-t m-y d-o-l-l-a-r.

Due to the oil I'm inadvertently ingesting these days, I've been subconsciously affected as well. So instead of tearing her a new one, I only let her go with a pretty lame remark.

How the mighty have fallen. Though I did take the entire five minutes to dig out a few dollars and multiple cents.

While the waitress waited apathetically. And earned the ire of the six customers behind me.