Speak For Yourself, Haggard Perv Who Thinks OK To Hit On The Help

Among New York Magazine’s Reasons to Love New York (in 2006, at least), the hot waitstaff:

If New York is the flame to which scores of the world’s most beautiful, multiracial, multiethnic youth are drawn, then the city’s waiter and waitress ranks are its red-hot center. Where else in the world can you look up from your fatty-toro sashimi or cheeseburger and find yourself staring into the eyes of a ruby-lipped Botticelli Venus? Or a porcelain-skinned John Currin? Or a Mapplethorpe subject? Brunch and a gallery crawl? Why bother. It’s redundant.

And one reason we can’t stand dining out is because of the totally incompetent waitstaff who, although sometimes “hot,” are dumb as shit . . .