1. I only need one asshole in my pants at a time, kthxdie, gentlemen. Don't make me bring my katana to work and stab the potato of stupid evil in its rheumy eye (my managers might just let me get away with it at this point, i.e. my notice turned in a week ago).
2. The next person who immediately unbundles the silverware we spend hours preparing every night, uses the napkin to wipe three or four drops of OMG ICKY MOISTURE off their tray, tosses the now-useless wad of paper and utensils aside, and grabs another bundle right in front of me will probably not spontaneously combust as soon as they step outside the restaurant, but they should.
3. More of you should have cute, gap-toothed, stuffed-animal-toting little girls who ask me hilarious, Family Circus-esque questions like, "Are you a kid? ...Oh, you're a big kid." :D Conversely, whoever invented 320-decibel plastic whistle-shrieking bendy straws and decided it would be a good idea to give them to small children? You'd need a battery-acid enema to approximate the headache pain you've caused hapless non-parental bystanders over the years, not to mention all the ammo provided to the "CROTCH-DROPPINGS AND MOOS ARE EVIL" crowd.
That's all of it, but here's the link. QWP, of course.