There's this rich snobby food critic who worked for the local news paper and she happened to be in the 5 star restaurant my sister worked in as a cook that served European cuisine. I'm not a wealthy person myself, but at the time I was working on average 90 hours a week and brought in close to $4,000. My joints ached, I was chronically tired from barely sleeping, and never had time to do anything. I myself worked in a fine dining restaurant and it was for a major legue baseball team. When you work for a sports team, they will work you to death depending on which department you were in. I was inside the stadium from 4am in the morning until 10:30–11:30 at night. Once I worked literally 30 hours straight with no sleep whatsoever. I came in at 4am on a Saturday and did not get off of work until the following day on Sunday at 2pm. I finally had the day off after working 16 days straight logging close to 200 hours of work within those 16 days. I made $1,600 for those 2 weeks and after a very loooong nap from the sleep deprivation, I decided to get something to eat. I decided to go to her job. I still had the work clothes I accidentally fell asleep in but was too tired to change. I hopped in my raggedy clunker and went in. I was that tired still after the nap that I was beyond not caring. I get that way when I got that tired and worn out. The snobby little food critic was sitting near the entrance and was trying to get customers’ opinions about the place. All I said was hello to her to be nice because she looked up at me. I know I wasn't dressed to the tee to be up there, but I didn't give a crap at that moment. She seen I wasn't sporting the best either and she asked in a snobby tone “What is a person like YOU doing in a very exquisite and expe...