Tropical Smoothie Cafe, 6:06 p.m. - Bored white girls boss a Mexican woman around

The two bored-ass-looking white girls running things here are just standing around yakking and ringing in the orders once every 20 minutes while the Mexican woman in the back is working like a dog making sandwiches, slicing bread for tomorrow, slicing meat, cleaning, etc. The American dream - let me show you it. Or, reality according to the GOP!

I wonder if the management here ever actually watches the security cameras? I saw the heifer that looks to be higher up in the food chain disappear into the bathroom while the other one was taking the order for my smoothie. She was in there when I sat down. She was still in there when I GOT my smoothie. She was still in there when I got my food. She was still in there when I'd finished half the sandwich and most of the bag of chips. Finally, twelve minutes later, I saw her come out clutching her cell phone.

Either she's got some real, real, real bad female problems or she's sneaking off to yak to her friend-girls or her man on the clock.

There's a WOACA in high-water pants at the counter now. She ordered a smoothie and then disappeared into the bathroom for four minutes. Maybe she had to purge. Maybe the other girl had to crap out a load of heroin and the housewife is here for a drop. Stranger things ....

She's the dainty type that's been influenced by too much "Desperate Housewives" and thinks that she'll one day look like Nicolette Sheridan. Maybe. If she wasn't equally influenced by Sara Lee. She's got cankles the size of Connecticut and tiny gold ankle bracelets stretched to the max around each ankle.

Oddly enough, her tropical print top actually MATCHES the strange menagerie of fruit flavors that they use for table-tops in her. She's rocking a fake white Louis Vuitton purse with the leather already starting to look aged and a bad home perm. She is very polite though. I heard her thank the girl for bringing her food out. So despite not knowing how to dress or accessorize, she gets an A in my book.

Oh my Thoth! There is a man with a literal rat's nest of hair at the register now. It .. Just .... DEFIES .... description. It doesn't look dirty, but it doesn't have that "just washed" look either. I think he's a hippie with thinning hair and no comprehension of the concept of product. Or conditioner. It is all wispy and floaty and wavy - sort of like a girl in a music video - and you just know that he would never dare put that head of hair into a convertible or else he'd have to shave it bald afterward because of the knots.

OH MY GOD. The register monkey is now ordering the tiny Mexican woman in the back around. Apparently HairMan ordered like six sandwiches and so the register girl is just WATCHING the Mexican woman make them. I can see sandwiches spread out on the counter as far as the eye can see. The register girl is just holding a piece of paper and waving it around and going "THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT BREAD!"

OK. Feel free to jump in and help any time here.

I would get onto HairMan for reading at the table, but I'm typing, so we're pretty even there. He's reading what looks like an anatomy textbook though, so that's a little more unusual.

OK. The register monkey woman finally started helping to wrap and bag the sandwiches when she realized that OMG IT WAS GOING TO TAKE A WHILE TO MAKE SEVEN SANDWICHES! How do these people ever get put into positions of even minor supervision?

And I just realized that she is being extra squeamish about touching the food. She's got on gloves, which is like the law, but she doesn't even want to touch the takeout bags or the bags of chips. Surely in a small cafe you can't expect to just run the register all day - especially not with just three people on duty. Logic would dictate that if someone is sick or on break you're going to be called on to help out.

OK. The bad fashion parade just got a thousand times worse. The WOACA from earlier is Jackie O compared to this lot.

Three teenage girls. One has on Converse All-Stars that lace all the way up into boots. She's wearing skinny jeans and a white T-shirt with stars. Another has on short-shorts so short that her T-shirt covers them up. She has on pink socks and brown shoes with a leopard print and she's headed to the bathroom to go purge right now. The chunky girl of the bunch - who got stuck paying for the order, has on Umbros and a normal-looking T-shirt. If only her blonde hair didn't look like it came from a bottle and she didn't have roots that a sequoia would envy. Le sigh. Kids these days.

I couldn't hear the order over the giggling, purse-swinging and "LIKE OMIGAWDS" emanating from that general direction, but I don't see the Mexican woman making food. I do hear multiple blenders going.

OK. I have a headache and the giggling is making it worse.

Also, the thought of knee-high Converse All-Stars is a little odd. I'm not sure I can handle that right now.