Cheerleaders are demons sent straight from the pits of Hell

Every few months, we get groups of people in my restaurant that make me want to sacrifice small animals to the gods to make them go away. These “people”…and I use that term loosely, are cheerleaders. Little high school cheerleaders. Screaming at the top of their lungs, wearing next to nothing, dancing like whores to every song that comes on the radio, practicing, and making me have migraines that are worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. They come in with their overly fat, overly pushy mothers. They order diet drinks, and demand that we change our menu to have non-fat low calorie items. They tend to scream over the stupidest things.

It’s really bad when they start playing claw games. It usually happens when they’re waiting on their dinners, they all get up and gravitate in a group of 20 or so to one of our claw machines. One of them will put in their money. Putting in the money illicits the first scream. The entire group of them begins bouncing in unison. The claw moves a half inch. Another scream emerges from their loud asses. The screaming continues in bursts until the claw drops. God forbid it touch a stuffed animal, for glasses may break.

Then we get the fat mothers who decide they’re going to bitch at their daughters when they try to order something that doesn’t have the words ‘diet’ or ‘bottled’ in the name for a drink. Regular coke? No No No, you have to fit into your uniform.

Example from a couple of months after I started, end of last year: Group of girls come in, 2 mothers, 6 girls. All of the girls but one order diet cokes.

“And what about you, ma’am?” I ask the last girl. She was the heaviest of the bunch, at a grand total of maybe 82 pounds. “I’d like a coke please.” She was very well mannered, despite being a squealing and annoying cheerleader, in full cheer regalia.

“Oh no you don’t young lady, you have to think about your figure! She’ll have a bottled water, and make sure that you bring her a straw, don’t need her getting germs from the bottle.” At the time, I had no idea of the lunatics that came into my job. I’ve since learned.

“Ma’am, no worries, none of us even touch the rim, and we haven’t a straw that will fit in our bottles. I will gladly bring her a glass if she would like.” I hate cheerleaders, but I think I hate their mothers even worse. They’re like pageant mothers.

“Mom, I want a coke!”

“You’re already getting fat, sweetheart, you’ll get water.

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11 thoughts on “Cheerleaders are demons sent straight from the pits of Hell

  1. As a mother of two 13 year olds who dance, I can assure you I feel your pain. But get that vision of a big fat mouthy momma out of your head right this minute young man because that’s where the similarity ends 🙂

  2. We get a cheerleader/dance camp on campus every summer. Most of them are pretty nice kids (although they are freakishly tiny) and they eat normally when I see them.
    I guess it’s because mom isn’t at the camp.

  3. I was in Marching band back in college and when we had bowl games to go to, the cheerleaders bus rode in our convoy. At EVERY freakin’ rest stop they would plie out, bounce around and practicetheir routines. The rest of us are looking at these freaks of nature like they are a mutated science project while the other patrons of the rest area were encourageing them . Yeesh!

  4. I think Bulimia may be a better form of punishment for them than any duration in hell might be, so dont worry. 🙂

    I’m kind of shocked the fat mothers would be so fucking evil and make their daughters pretty much starve like that. That just seems so attrocious.

  5. I really think it is southern Cheer Leaders that get mental. I taught in NC and people take cheering amazingly fucking serious – a math teacher I worked with actually quit and opened up a cheerleading gym. Up north here, it’s much more chilled, more of a way to meet the boys on the sports teams.

  6. Oh, and of course, anytime a group of teenage girls are together (or boys for that matter), stupidity will run amok. Trust me, I teach 15 year olds. Girls are more annoying because of the omnipresent squealing.

  7. I would have brought her a coke and just said “here’s your diet coke, miss.” It takes a highly trained eye to tell the difference between regular and diet just by looking …

    And back when I was a cheerleader, I swear my team was made up of all fatties.

  8. Gaahhh… this is giving me flashbacks to my pageant days (forced onto me by my mother, who is not unlike the mothers you describe.) I’m so glad I decided to rebel by high school and turned into a jock, then pissed off the cheerleaders by appealing to the school board that the cheerleaders should not be given athletic varsity letters. To this day they still get special cheerleading varsity letters…

    I’m a bitch, and really it’s been a recurring thing.

  9. The squeeling and the constant hugs is what kept me afraid of the “popular” crowd in high school. My surly attitude probably didn’t help either though.

    And Blonde…marching band? DORK!!!!
    Kidding, my sister is in her college band. I thought it was cool when I got to go on the field with her.

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