For the first Saturday in ages – besides my time in Miami – I actually didn’t have to work. This was due to the fact that I was attending one of those awesome types of bachelorette parties that lasts all day and all night. Yes, I was drunk for a lot of it and yes I also asked for Sunday off so I could have a ridiculous hangover and not feel even the least bit guilty. I call that planning ahead.
So I had a weekend of totally awesome fun that was much needed and entirely appreciated. After allowing myself plenty of sleeping-in time, I headed to Hooters to check my schedule and relish in having to not wear nylons. What happened next was a real treat.
Manager: “So I got the strangest call this morning.”
|Because I totally look like that, John Smith. CREDIT.|
This opening was followed by my manager telling me that a customer, I had apparently served on Friday, called that morning regarding some strange activity on his credit card. Apparently, he had all sorts of weird charges on his card and he thought that I had stolen his card number and caused each and every one of them. The best part is that most of them occurred far from Montana. In fact the majority were overseas. Yes, this man actually asked my manager if I was currently out of the country.
Because it makes fucking sense that I would work on a Friday, steal your personal information and leave the country the next day to totally destroy your credit score.
But of course it’s the only way it could be possible because the only place in the entire state of Montana that this card was used was at Hooters Missoula. And I was the Hooters Girl. Honestly, do you expect this Hooters Girl to believe that the ONLY place you used a credit card in the fourth largest state in this great United States of America was my Hooters? Sure thing, pal.
Naturally, he wouldn’t believe my manager that I am an honest person and said he’d be handling this matter legally since she wouldn’t do anything. Newsflash, dude, I spent my Saturday afternoon sipping sangria in my bikini while maintaining my killer tan. And for the record that happened in Missoula – Not Bora Bora or wherever.
For the sake of having a brain though, lets take a step back and think about this. Even if you did only use your card at my Hooters, it doesn’t mean that your information was stolen there. Perhaps it happened somewhere like – I don’t know – the damn Internet. Maybe once upon a time you bought some inappropriate thing from a less than credible site. Is it possible that something like that could have compromised your information? I’d say it’s a heck of a lot more probably than a Hooters Girl in Missoula, Montana stealing it and taking a whirlwind world tour before she has to be in class Monday morning. But maybe that’s just me.
I look forward to hearing from the authorities and telling them an alibi that is full of alcohol, party games and penis-shaped straws. Or – most likely – I look forward to not hearing from anyone because your detective work is totally unreliable and utterly laughable. Either way, bring it on!