It's Over

Dear Luby's,

We've been together nearly 40 years now, and while I've noticed a growing distance between us in the last few years, I really always thought we'd work it out and go the distance. I've forgiven your recent attempts to bolster lagging sales by scrapping the traditional cafeteria routine in some locations for a self-serve, all-you-care-to-shove-in-your-piehole format, which I loathe with every fiber of my being. I've excused the ridiculous decision to replace the tea cart ladies with individual "servers" at each table, who I am now guilted into tipping just for bringing me a straw. And I've even overlooked the baffling disappearance of the darling little boats you used to serve the shrimp cocktail in. But after last night's Kids-Eat-Free-on-Wednesdays debacle, I've had alls I can stands, and I can't stands no more. And in this case, it really is YOU, not me.

Not that I don't like to save a buck or ten, but any free event, especially involving kids, usually gives me pause because do I really want to be in a confined space with a bunch of other jackasses' screaming kids? In a word, fuckno. But there we were last night, in line with about 200 other assholes, dreaming of the best macaroni and cheese in the history of the world, and I knew it was over. I knew because I immediately wanted to get the hell right out of there, sweet comfort food or no. I knew because instead of being served by the sweet Luby Ladies of yore, the ones who would smile and call me "mija" when they scooped me up an extra hardy helping of fried okra, I was met with sweaty, mumbling, openly hostile burnouts who seemed to think it was MY fault that they were out of black-eyed peas. And I'm pretty sure one of that dude's jailhouse tats was infected, so I didn't eat the squash he forced on me anyway. Nice try.

And then, THEN, the everloving mac n cheese of the gods SUCKED. And I hate that word. That's how bad it was. And that's how OVER this is. Cold, plain pasta with cheddar cheese melted on it two days ago does not cut the mustard, and back in the day, you would have never let that shit fly. I just don't even know you anymore.

So, I'm out. For good this time.

Kiss my grits,
LT

P.S. And just so you know, you were my second choice last night as this place was closed for filming. Oh, quit your crying, you big baby.