I hate my job
, but I like my boss. He's a good friend of mine, and he's taken care of me at some times when he really didn't have to and it didn't benefit him in the least.
We work out of his tiny apartment in north Dallas
. He's a full-blooded Italian, so there's usually some pretty good eats laying around.
For breakfast this morning he made pancakes. He's awful proud of them, and they aren't bad, so I don't complain. He laid out all the flatware he thought we'd need, which included knives. I don't particularly need a knife to cut pancakes, so I didn't use it. Instead, I spent the better part of the morning itching my head with it. He watched me do it several times.
For lunch he made spaghetti
. He was getting down to the last of his pasta
and needed something to herd it onto his fork. He picks up my knife and says in a mock italian accent "Ifa you ain't gonna use dis, I will!"
I state to him very clearly what I was doing with that knife earlier, and in the shitty italian accent he says "You-a lying!" and proceeds to use it with his food.
My head is by no means dirty
, but if I saw somebody using a utinsile the way I was, and that person also told me directly what they were doing with it, I wouldn't use it with my food. He's a weird guy.