When did it become fashionable to wear those baggy tank tops that expose your disgusting hairy armpits? Good Lord, men are revolting. Hello, I think that shirt was meant to show off that you’d been to a gym, not that you haven’t seen the inside of one since, oh, high school when they forced you to?

And look at that guy. Actually, look at all of them. Do they have a dork uniform store where these losers all buy their clothes?

And listen to them. Every night it’s the same tired bullshit. Ah, questioning your friend’s sexual orientation; that’s a good one. Never heard that witty banter before. Wait … the bald joke is coming. I can feel it. Wait for it… wait for it… ah, there it is! I knew you wouldn’t let me down, polo shirt guy!

Now they’re going to talk about golf. Sigh.

I wonder, do these guys really feel as cocky as they act? Because if they do, they’re seriously lying to themselves.

They’ve run out of routine insults and golf discussions. What will it be, talking about cars, or looking over at the game on TV? I’m waiting, gentlemen. Cars it is, then.

Now, I can’t tell by looking at you. When you’re done with the same old car discussion, will you switch to computers, or will you finally look to the game to relieve you of the stress of conversation? Still the cars? How long can this go on.

Finally! Okay, the truck thing makes me think you’ll look at the game instead of talking about computers. Aaand… I’m right. Of course I’m right. I see the same generic groups of miserable jerks every night. They’re looking at the screen, so now it’s my cue to go over and talk to them…

“Hi, I’m Carly!” I hear myself say in my cheer-uppy syrupy voice. “Welcome to Hooters! Can I take your order?”

Overpriced beer and mediocre chicken wings, you say? I already had that written down.