Well, This is a Fine How-Do-You-Fluffernutter-Do?

I have been waiting and waiting for my fluffernutter sandwich and I demand service, people! I hate to eat out in public by myself and I was counting on the comfort of a fluffernutter to keep me company, but that rude waitress told me that the kitchen couldn't make me a fluffernutter. The nerve! I told her to go get her manager and she said that she is the manager and that I have five minutes before I have to leave. I just hope I can get my fluffernutter in that time. I hate sitting here all by myself. People may not be able to see my engagement ring and see that I am here by myself mostly by choice.

Crap. (Pardon me.) It's been five minutes and no sandwich. There is no way I'm leaving a tip. In fact, I think I'm going to steal that tip off a neighboring table and go buy my fluffernutter sandwich elsewhere.


  1. Oh, if I'd only known, I'd have joined you and acted out with you. I'm not sure about the fluffer on the peanut-butter, but I'm no sissy and would have at least tried it once, just to annoy the management. That's the kind of broad I am. Call me next time you want to annoy the management with a strange request. I'll be your rebellious companion anytime you like. I might even bring my fart machine and let you carry the remote control.

  2. I happen to know the waitress was a mere waitress and not a Manager at all. Only a true Manager would even know how to make an honest Fluffernutter and Peanut butter Sandwich.

  3. They don't sell Fluff in West Virginia. I have to send away for it. I grew up on Fluffanutters and see how good I turned out?