Please Sir, may I have some more?

Well this is nothing new but of COURSE we were not fed this past weekend at yet another fancy-fucking-pants golf club. Well - I suppose 'technically' we were....well, read on...

Earlier in the day, when i arrived at the brides house there was a huge spread of fruit, sandwiches, snacks and shit. The mother, an under-nourished over-tanned handbag of a woman, said not "Why don't you help yourself to a sandwich." but rather, "You should get shots of the food spread."
Really, you Leather Cunt? Thanks for offering. I'm not hungry after my 2 hour drive. It's fine. Really.

That put aside, that evening AS I'M SHOOTING, the huge, sweating cargo-truck of a man catering manager whispers in my ear (as i gaze longingly at everyone's surf and turf) "Hey! I have a sandwich for you in the other room." No kidding? Let me drop my camera right now because that sounds so fucking enticing. "I'll get it and bring it to you." he says. I get a boner right on the spot in the middle of the dance floor, and start touching myself, I'm THAT excited.

Said sandwich never materializes, and as i'm about to wrap up for the night he says, "HEY! Did you ever eat?" Ummm, did you BRING me the sandwich, Jumbo?

I say, "I'm really ok, I ate the one I brought."
"No,no!", he insists, "It's still good. Tell you what, I'll package it to go and out it by your bag." So now I feel a bit (only a BIT) bad because he's actually being nice.

And as a huge fatso, you KNOW this guy likes to eat.

I walk over to my bag to see a tempting styrofoam container, which as i pick it up is at light as a feather. I open it to find a grade school proportioned sandwich, delicately cut on the bias to make it fancy. For a moment I assumed Gigantor ate the rest of it, but no. It was just a wee little thing. Hobbits eat larger portions. I've flossed out larger servings of meals from between my teeth. Along with Le Petite Un Sandwich was a bag of chips smushed in there as well for additional nourishment. I could barely contain my excitement. My erection returned. How would I finish all this? AND I get to walk out like early-bird douche who could not finish his omelet and asked for a take home container. How humiliating.

And so in the end, there really is no final punchline to this story, other than the fact that more often than not the nicer the place, the worse you get served. THAT and the fact that many people who are Golf Club members and thoughtless assholes.