Hey there. Kyle is it? Well, hello, Kyle. I have diabetes. Now, I know that, as a waiter at a Chili’s, you have a lot of important people to wait on, and I know those people can be demanding, but what you have to understand, Kyle, is that I check my blood sugar about 47 times a day, because of my diabetes. And when you just put down a bunch of packets of pure sugar on the table with my iced tea, well, Kyle, you almost killed me right there.

Kyle, when you’re diabetic, you’re entitled to diabetes testing supplies at little or no cost if you’re a Medicare beneficiary, which you may or may not have known. So when you put those 10 packets of Imperial brand sugar on my table here, you did me a great disservice. As a diabetic, Kyle, I’m entitled to diabetes testing supplies and I check my blood sugar close to 329 times a day—in fact, I’ve checked my blood sugar 13 times since I sat down to this wonderful little meal of baby back ribs and chips. So what you did, Kyle, was tantamount to serving an alcoholic a shot of whiskey.

Let me tell you this, Kyle, and what you have done has left me no choice, really. I have some pictures of you that your lady friend may not care for. Not just screwing, Kyle. All sorts of intimate acts, oral and whatnot, that can be particularly hard for a trusting girlfriend to forgive and impossible to forget. How can we make this situation better for both of us, Kyle? Well, that’s the real question, isn’t it?

We need to have a little chat, you and I. In this world, we’re given a series of choices. Moments where we can choose—though it may not always seem like it—to make the right choice. Well, Kyle, now is one of those times. I wish we lived on some different planet, Kyle. I really do. One where we didn’t get any older, we didn’t get diabetes, and we didn’t ever die. But that’s not this world, is it, Kyle? Kyle, I’ve checked my blood sugar 11 times since you came over here. I just checked it again. See that delivery man at the door, Kyle? Well, he’s bringing me more diabetes testing supplies. That’s the kind of world we live in, Kyle.

How about you do this for me now, Kyle? Why don’t you walk yourself over to the drink dispenser over there, reach underneath the counter, and pull me out a few packets of Splenda—or Equal, if that’s all you got. You’d be helping a tired old man with diabetes and a sense that the world isn’t just quite ever going to be what it used to be. How about getting that Splenda for me, Kyle?

It’s the right thing to do, Kyle. I think you already knew that.