Punk Rock Waitress

Today was sort of fun. In accounting I did pretty much nothing except write a test which was way easier than I expected. In history we corrected stuff and Mr. Farrell got way off topic. We were learning about Africa and he talked about, among other things, mowing grass, piano, the differences between the sexes, and the environment. And this stupid math questionnaire we had to do, but that will come later.
Then we we were supposed to have jazz but no one was there so we didn't. In band we played marching music and got this huge lecture from Menzie about not showing up for stuff. And she's like "I ask you guys before I accept a gig" and I'm like "like hell you do!" (but not REALLY) Cuz she totally doesn't. She has never asked us whether we wanted to play, she just asks how many will be there. She does that a lot there...thinks she asks us stuff when she doesn't. Then what...we had math and had to fill out this totally stupid questionnaire about the provincial test we will be taking. There were stupid questions like "what do you feel about the statement 'I love mathematics'?" I laughed, and it must have been loud because Mr. Farrell was like "and Robin's putting "strongly disagree" but he was joking and I sort of tried to block it with my hand and he's like "did you really put that?" and I just nodded sheepishly. I felt kind of bad. Then he said later it was good to be honest. Heidi and I were planning to put in weird stuff like "I love bananas" and Mr. Farrell gave us this lecture that if we wrote stuff like "I want to bomb the White House" or whatever could be an indication of an instability of mental health and that he knew whose booklet was whose. Heidi and I kind of caught each other's eye and I was trying really hard not to laugh. It was like he read our minds! I kind of think putting "I love bananas" could be an indication of bad mental health. But maybe that's just me.

I so totally got a job at Triple T! (restaurant, for the uninformed) WHEEEEEEEE!
Let's put aside the fact that they are desperate for waitresses. And that I originally wanted to work in the attached gas station. But still, its a freaking JOB!
For the occasion, I made a song, that goes to the tune of Something Corporate's Punk Rock Princess and is a total ripoff of it, but that's okay:

"Punk Rock Waitress"
Maybe when the restaurant's empty,
Maybe when the bottle's full.
Maybe when the door gets broke down,
Food can break in.
Maybe when I'm done with ordering,
Maybe you can bring me food.
Maybe when I'm done with appetizers
Meal can begin, meal can begin
Meal can begin.
If you could be my punk rock waitress,
I would be your Triple T king.
You can tell me why you just dont fit in
And how wanted to work in the gas station.
Maybe when your hair gets darker,
Maybe when your eyes get wide,
Maybe when the walls are not heinous pink
There will be more space
Maybe when I'm not so hungry
Maybe you could give me a menu
Maybe when I look for things that I cant buy here, I cant buy here
I cant buy here.
If you could be my punk rock waitress,
I would be your Triple T king.
You could tell me why you just dont fit in,
And how you wanted to work at the gas station.
If I could be your first real customer,
I would do it over again.
If you could be my punk rock waitress,
I would be your customer.
I never thought you'd last,
I never dreamed you would.
You watch your life go past,
You wonder if you should.
If you should be my punk rock waitress
So I could be your Triple T king.
You could tell me why you just dont fit in,
And how you wanted to work at the gas station
If I could be your first real customer,
I would do it over again.
If you could be my punk rock waitress,
I would be your customer.
Whoa! you know!
You only burn my pasta!
Whoa! you know!
You just cant let it not burn
You could be my waitress,
You could be my waitress!