Just Give Me the Effing Spaghetti

The cafe at the end of my block is tasty (in fact that's the name -- Tasty Cafe), so I like to go there to pick up dinner when I'm coming off the subway at night.

But there's this dude that works there.

He keeps asking me questions in a voice so low that the conversation goes something like this:

Him: "rrwwwrow rv ntion?"
Me: "What?"
Him: "Wher burfv nzin?"
Me: "What?"
Him: "Where did you go for vacation?"
Me: "California."
Him: "drou oull ieye re?"
Me: "What?"

Look, I just want some damn spaghetti. Can you leave the interview for your next crappy job? Jeez.