Hello everyone! I am a server at Olive Garden and was witness to the events described here. However, some details were left out so I thought I’d fill them in so you can get the whole story.
On the night in question, a parent and nongenderspecific offspring sat at a table in our restaurant. The table was not in my section but in the section of my coworker, Gendered Nouns and Pronouns Tammy. Gendered Nouns and Pronouns Tammy has been warned in the past about her flagrant use of gendered terminology but she has chosen to ignore these admonishments.
“Oh how nice!” screamed Gendered Nouns and Pronouns Tammy, embarrassing everyone. “A mother-daughter dinner!”
The nongenderspecific offspring then responded, correcting her. A polite smattering of applause followed. This was when I stepped in.
“DEPART IMMEDIATELY GENDERED NOUNS AND PRONOUNS TAMMY.” I said in a monotone voice that was offensive to nobody due to its lack of specific word emphasis. I turned to the table and looked at the middle space between the parent and nongenderspecific offspring. “ORDERTAKE.”
“I will have the lasagna,” said nongenderspecific offspring.
“INCORRECT,” I said. “LASAGNA IS A GENDERED TERM UTILIZING FEMININE WORD CONSTRUCTION. AT THIS EATBUILDING WE HAVE A NONGENDERSPECIFIC VERSION KNOWN AS ZON.”
“I will have the ZON,” said the nongenderspecific offspring hopefully.
“INCORRECT,” I continued. “THE TERMINOLOGY ‘I WILL HAVE’ CONTAINS A VEILED RAPE THREAT SUGGESTING GENDERED EXCHANGE. YOU MAY SUMMON ZON TO YOUR EATZONE BY SAYING ZON ACQUIRE.”
“Zon acquire?” said nongenderspecific offspring.
“CONFIRMED” I said, and immediately a flat grey textureless rectangle was brought from the kitchen and put in front of her. She took a bite.
“This has no flavor,” she said with disappointment.
“INCORRECT,” I said. “FLAVOR IS THE RESULT OF GENDER OPPRESSION THROUGH TRADITIONAL FEMALE COOKING. ZON INSTEAD OFFERS THE EXPERIENCE OF PURE CARBON DEVOID OF NUTRIENTS OR PROTEIN DELIVERED FREE OF FLAVOR OR TEXTURE. ZON EAT.”
“But I don’t want this,” said nongenderspecific offspring.
“INCORRECT,” I continued. “DESIRE IS A PRODUCT OF HUMAN IMPERFECTION. ZON EAT.”
Nongenderspecific offspring’s parent then interjected. “Do I have any lines in this?”
“INCORRECT,” I continued. “YOUR QUESTION OPPRESSES NONGENDERSPECIFIC OFFSPRING AND MYSELF. ZON EAT.”
“I don’t think I want this,” said nongenderspecific offspring, pointing at her plate.
“INCORRECT,” I said as a team of surgeons stepped quietly out of a side door and approached the table. “POINTING IS A GENDERSPECIFIC PHALLIC GESTURE. THESE SURGEONS WILL PREVENT YOU FROM FURTHER OPPRESSING EVERYONE WITH YOUR GENDER FAVORITISM.” The surgeons shot her in the arm with a quick-acting anesthetic and then swiftly amputated both of her arms. I looked on dispassionately. “ZON EAT,” I said again.
Nongenderspecific offspring began to consume ZON. I was neither pleased nor displeased. And nobody was offended.