Stephanie Lozinski....she's got no hair.

The Glorious Leader had a pop at me the other afternoon as I hadn't shaved. Now this is rich considering some of my Waiter Chums and Chums of Waiters treat shaving as a weekly and in some cases monthly chore. It's true I hadn't shaved. I was tired having been up to 3.30 in the am defeating the massed hordes on iBomber on my ever so lovely iPad. Good times I'm sure you will all agree but when it was time to get up some six hours later I wasn't really in the mood, or trusted myself, to scrape across my face with a somewhat blunted razor.

An unshaven waiter is not an attractive one. That is not to be confused with a bearded waiter who has spent time sculpting and honing his follicles into a tidy and respectable Richard Stilgoe-esque appearance (surely the gold standard for all beard fans). If your waiter has the beard of a dirty hipster type then you should demand to be moved away from him or simply leave. They keep their drugs and over sized sunglasses in their beard you know. Well what other reason would there be for such comedy chin attire?

Anyhoo, he made a cheap and sarcastic remark which I shrugged off with my usual charm and nonchalance and in no way through a stroppy huff. Not me.

That said if he had sacked me for the hair on my face I would have gone on a rampage to make Raoul Moat look like a big Jessy. Which is probably what Stephanie Lozinski should have done.

Stephanie who? I hear you cry!

Stephanie Lozinski is, or rather was, a waitress at Sawatdee Thai in Winnipeg who got the old heave ho for shaving her hair off.

Why would she do such a thing? I hear you ask with increased anger and frustration.

Did she do it due to teenage petulance to spite her parents and society in general and it's ridiculous image standards that it sets for women?

No.

Did she do it to proclaim undying love and adulation for bald songstress and thorn in the side of the catholic church, Sinead O'Connor?

No.

Did she do it to fit in to a gang or new scene? The hipsters have their hunger striker meets Top Shop chic, maybe there is a new skinhead scene that us olds don't get. Is that it?

No.

You're never gonna get it.

She shaved her hair off to show solidarity with family members going through chemotherapy.

And she got sacked from her restaurant for that.

What a bunch of utter cunts.

Full stroy here...

Does it really matter if the waiter has hair? Surely being well groomed, clean, fresh smelling and not like the arm pit of Satan (which is what I imagine Jack Black smells like all the time) is more important than what style their hair is in? Or not as the case maybe. Plus you wouldn't sack a dude for being bald?

Smells like poo to me, Thai green poo at that.

It was Monday night and all was well in my empty little restaurant world until I turned round to discover four hipsters standing at my door. That was a shock I must say. We aren't normally at home to Mr and Mrs Hipster. Or to be exact they don't normally don't bother with us. It's been a working relationship that has stood both parties very well. So what were these four doing standing at my door all limp and hipster like. I wandered over, my little sweaty face the very picture of confusion and vexation. I said nothing lest they think I was happy to see them.

"Oh hi man...could we like maybe get like a table or something...like for some food man?" There were so many sarcastic ways to respond to that opening line my head nearly exploded but instead I just wanted clarification.

"You four? Want a table? Here?"

"Yeah like man we are like so starving", confirmed the lead hipster. He was clearly the lead hipster as he had the biggest and daftest beard. Actually with his gaunt eyes peering over his pointy cheek bones and big stupid stupid, fuck me it was stupid, beard he looked like a hunger striker or at the very least an extra from Steve McQueen's 2008 film, "Hunger". His brown duffle coat just added to the blanketmen look. Is Republican chic the new look for 2010?

I lead them to a table, gave them menus and walked away. I was sure the prices if not the whole ghastly carnivorous and the most completely un-LA menu this side of Moscow itself would frighten them away. Obviously I was practically catatonic when the girl hipster approached me on the way to the bathroom, looking every inch like a thinner Thora Birch in Ghost World, that they were, "ready to like you know order n stuff."

Taking their order was more torturous than being forced to watch  Brain Cowen French kiss your kid sister. But by the end of it they had actually and quite surprisingly ordered a lot of good food - duck terrine, lamb, fillet steak, mussels oh on and on it went. I was back to being confused again, don't hipsters normally live off a diet of  Heinz Big Soup and irony? We don't serve cool food. I mean we primarily serve salmon and chicken and beef and we don't do it in a very cool way. We know our crowd and we play up to them. And then I realised what had happened. Our food was so uncool it was actually cool. And isn't that the very essence of being a hipster, to like the uncool? To favour that that is not hip thus making it hip?

Well it was either that or hipsters only feed a few times a year and this was one of those times. I mean the carbs were stacked high, this was an order that could have kept a bear sustained right through the winter. After a while I dropped the antagonism and sort of left them alone. In fact I even started calling other guests "man." I knocked that off after the lady in the fancy work suit gave me a very sharp look.

As the night drew to a close I realised that the only table left was the four hipsters who by now were spread out in a less than satisfactory way over the the table beside them. It was time for them to go. Now I have experience with getting rid of unwanted hippies which are the great unwashed cousins of the hipster. Ridding your restaurant of hippies requires patience and nerves of steal. I mean it's easier to get rid of rats. Hippies are oblivious to social niceties such as knowing when you are in danger of outstaying your welcome. But as every single last hipster the world over is in fact the result of a middle class upbringing they are a little easier to get shifted. They only look like colour blind tramps, what's their motto, "Think rich, look poor", isn't it? Douchebags.

Anyhoo these ones weren't for moving despite my first attempt at encouraging them to do so. I had to consult the Waiter's Big Book for advice. And sure enough there was a section on, "How to Rid Your Restaurant of Douchey Hispter Types"

1. Keep trying to get them to spend money. Hipsters like to keep their money for over sized sunglasses, shit from charity shops and going to far away European music festivals you have never heard of. They will recoil if you put them under pressure to spend more than they intended. This didn't work though as my hipsters had clearly just got a grant from the Arts Council or had sold some abstract piece of crap masquerading as art.
2. Change the music. A sudden and loud change to something unfavourable, something they consider to be uncool wil have them out the door quicker than if you hit the fire alarm. But remember they are hipsters and the uncool is cool. So choose something you and most of society consider to be cool and it should have the opposite effect on them. So I put some Strokes on but these hipsters seemed to enjoy the retroness of it. In fact one even said so much. How the fuck can something that is less than ten years old be fucking retro. Sake.
3. Out hipster the hipsters. Hipsters are happiest when either surrounded by thousands of other hipsters or when they are the only hipsters in the room. They like to be stared at by what they consider to be squares. Their whole identity is defined by this. So if you want to piss them off and make them leave tell them you love their beards and that you think The strokes are great and that you cant wait to go to some random Spanish music festival on a beach. They will be horrified. My in built self respect just wouldn't let me be that douchey.
4. If all else fails just take a floor brush to them. Remember what Cartman said, "When four or more hippies come together they will form a drum circle." It's the same with hipsters except they will form a reading club and quote from battered Chuck Klosterman books until you end up hanging yourself with your own belt. Wise and sobering advice indeed...

They got up to leave just as I stormed back into the dining room armed with a large floor brush and a mop, just in case.

Hipsters, I'm very much against them...

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