"My boss, Charlie, was, of course, a dumbass NC redneck. (Charlie was his real name. Screw you, Charlie.) Because I was a quiet, shy, nerdy, skinny kid, he reasoned that I must be ‘some kind of little f*ggot.’ He suggested, several times, loudly and in front of my co-workers, that maybe I should ‘ask my buddy Dawn’ to offer her services to me so that she could ‘straighten me out.’ He especially liked to bring this up when I was doing some really crummy job, like scraping some gunky crap off of the kitchen floor on my hands and knees.
"One busy Sunday afternoon, I made a stupid mistake on an order and Charlie got ridiculously angry about it. He was determined to make me suffer for it. Then Dawn showed up, and as I went out to get her order, Charlie followed behind me. In front of the other customers and everyone in earshot, he pushed me towards her and yelled, ‘Why don'tchu put yer clit on this 'un and show him what that thang is for why doncha?’ and with a big hee-haw laugh, slapped me on the back and sauntered back inside. Dawn didn't respond to Charlie, she just stared at him, and, without breaking her gaze, said to me, ‘Don't you worry about old Charlie, honey. His sorry little peanut dick ain't been hard in years.’