Functionally ReTodded

Wow.

So today, on the way to the office during a seemingly routine cab ride, the VERY French driver points to his left to a warehouse looking building and says, “Have you eaten there?”

“No,” I replied. “Is it good?”

“The girls…the are pretty…and wear short short skirts.”

Well thank you, Pepe Le Pue. I’ll keep that filed under Not Very Likely.

So I get to work, pull the pterodactyl’s tail like Monsier Flintstone, and start my day.

Fast forward to 12:45pm, and my co-worker on this job says “So…you got lunch plans?”

“Nope,” I say. “I think I’ll just order something to be delivered.”

He said, “Do you wanna come with me? I’m going to a fast food place, so we won’t be gone long.”

“Nah,” I said. “Maybe I can just have you pick me up something.”

“Seriously,” he said. “We won’t be gone long. My buddy’s got a meeting at 2pm. Why don’t you just come along?”

“Fine,” I said. “I don’t have anything better to do. What the hell.”

And off we were, just having a conversation like two co-workers heading to lunch. Before you know it, we’re driving near the same warehousey place I looked at with the Frog on the way to work. I said “Hey, my cabbie told me about this place today. What’s the deal?”

Co-worker replies “The staff is pretty good looking.”

Whatever dood. I know you’re from Montreal and live in Florida now, but I’m from the Land of Hot Chicks. From college in Alabama to now in Atlanta, I see more hot chicks out and about in a month than most people see in a year.

So we walk in, I take off my sunglasses, and right then my co-worker (from now on referred to as the greatest international host EVER) says out loud to no one in particular something I’ll never forget…

“They weren’t topless last time I was here.”

Sure enough folks. The entire wait and bar staff (all female) were attractive gals with micro g-strings, sheer scarves around their waists (you know, to be discreet) and nothing up top but what God gave ‘em.

(I add that last part because it was refreshing and exhilarating to see a group of roughly a dozen girls working topless and not one of them had bolt-ons. I don’t think there’s a nude establishment at home where the ratio of bolt-ons to naturals is less than 70-30 or worse, and I think that’s as sad as kids today looking at porn on the web instead of stealing playboys from their dads or finding Penthouses in the woods behind gas stations).

We sat down and I realized two things: I was drooling and I my trousers were starting to feel a little snug.

I looked at the menu (as well as the fantastic natural tatas of the drink waitress) and noticed that the prices were damned reasonable. I was able to translate most of the menu and decided to get the grilled cheese with bacon (and side of fries), but…wait a minute…is that? Could it be? Oh my God! Yes!!1!11!!

POUTINE!!!

Oh, my sweet cheesy, gravy-covered mistress.  How I’ve missed you so!

I didn’t even have to hide my excitement since I was in a room full of naked waitresses. It was safe to be excited while sitting, as long as I was looking at the menu, tits, ass, or anything else as long as it wasn’t some girl’s eyes.

And then, a tall brunette with a lei around her neck (how cute and demure, no?) came over to take our orders. The two guys I was with both said “Bon jour,” followed by some other shit and then she looked at me and I said “Bone jerr. Grilled fromage plate with bacon, see voo play. And a puhteet pooTEEN.”

She looked at me, kind of shocked, and said “acsikmhai,hslak laohwrtc c acv htr hrt ac cryac awe vtva rtv?”

I responded by saying nothing and staring at her tits.

She looked at my table-mates, said “srlm cacsaih coas,c ascoihga ac?” and GCE (greatest coworker ever) said “She wants to know if you want the fries on the side AND the poutine.”

“I looked up at her tits/eyes and said “Yes please. I’ll have the fries too, por fuhvore.”

She shrugged (which moved her funbags) and walked away. GCE said “Did you really want the fries too?”

I replied honestly, “Dude, I would have ordered Beef tripe, asparagus, a colonoscopy a two-pack of douches if she’d have stayed at the table a few more minutes. It’s just so refreshing to be in a place with naked chicks and the place isn’t lit like a coffin.”

So our two waitresses came and went, and since I had the seat with my back to the door, all I got to do was watch the ladies go from table to kitchen to register, lather rinse repeat.

And then I saw THE SIGN.

There was a partially obscured poster on the wall that said “MON-TUE-SAT special: 3 Bud Lites and a XXX DVD for $12.95”

I set an appointment in my blackberry for Saturday afternoon after the Boosh race.

I do have a few observations though.

I can’t tell you how odd it is to see a topless chick wandering around with a pot of hot coffee. I mean seriously. You’re in a lunch spot with topless chicks. You can’t splurge and order a coke, you pussy?”

There must have been 80-100 people there having lunch, and there was only one female patron (who happened to be sittin at a table just diagonal from me). All I could think (when I wasn’t looking at knockers) was, “How would I feel if I was the only guy with 99 other women having lunch at a place where all the male employees were wearing banana hammocks…or less?”

The answer? What the fuck do I care? She’s ugly and all the waitresses are topless!!!!

God Bless you Canada. I think I’ll change your nickname from “America’s Hat” to “Land of the topless lunch where poutine is served.”

I know it’s wordy, but sometimes you can say too little.

For the translation of the title, click here and paste in the text and choose the French to English)