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What Good Is A Blog If You Never Update It?

I’ve been severely slacking on posting lately. I haven’t posted anything since….damn, I don’t know when.

I have a terrible cold today (and I’m sure my lunch of Beanie Weenees and a couple of leftover hot wings from my night at the bar last night won’t help my health). It’s a bitch that it got bad too, since I have to work tonight and I can’t afford to call off. With the cold, all I can really do is wash my hands a lot at work, use roughly a gallon of hand sanitizer in one shift, refrain sniffling, coughing, or sneezing in front of customers, and pray that my voice doesn’t give away that I’m sick.

Speaking of work, I am looking for a second job. Circumstances here in a couple of months will basically demand for me to get a second job to keep my head above water. I barely do it with a roommate and the one job I have right now. With my roommate leaving, I definitely have to find a second source of income. Waiting tables just isn’t going to cut it – even if it would, it would be cutting it very, very close, without a penny to spare. I am also looking at getting a new roommate, even if I get a second job – it sure as hell would make it a lot easier on me for sure.

I turned 21 earlier this month. I just got my permit a few days later – yes, I am 21 and this is the first time I’ve had my driving permit. So far, I’m not doing too badly with it, and I really enjoy driving. I used to be scared of it, which is one of the reasons I haven’t had my permit until now. The first time I drove I was very nervous, but a few weeks later, I’m getting much better at it (or so I hope).

Obviously with turning 21 comes a lot of drinking. I’m enjoying being able to go to a bar and have a drink or just buy some beer and go home with it to drink. I still have yet to buy my own bottle of liquor though. Then again, I generally don’t drink much liquor anyway.

The job is still shitty. I have quite a story for a post later, but I think I should let it sit for a while. It doesn’t have to do with a customer, it has to do with someone in the workplace, and I’m not risking my job over this shit. Actually, I have a few stories that pertain to co-workers, all of which should come soon enough, goodness willing I’m able to motivate myself to write in here more. I just don’t want to tell them right now because they all deserve posts of their own and I don’t want the stories to be too new when I post them. I like the anonymity thing I have going on with this blog and I don’t want to risk that.

Anyway, I should get up off my bum and get ready for work, seeing as how I have to be there in an hour and a half. I just got up from a nap that I was hoping would refresh me a bit. It kind-of-sort-of did. Hopefully I’ll make some good money tonight, seeing as how my wallet’s getting pretty strapped at the moment. I think what I need to do tonight after work though is come home, drink some tea, chill out, and try to kick this cold.

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I haven’t updated in a while….

Saturday damn near killed me. Two idiots at work who will remain anonymous booked a party of twenty and a party of fourteen….a half hour apart from one another. That was just FUCKED UP. As anyone who works in a restaurant would know, if you book a party, it’s going to be busy.

And damn, it was.

It didn’t help matters that we had the owners down there helping us out since it was so busy and Boss Man usually makes things worse. Boss Lady actually helps out, but for my party of twenty, three steaks went back undercooked. Who cooked them? Not A, the one who usually does our evening steaks, but Boss Man. He left three steaks that were supposed to be well done on for roughly five minutes (this is what A told me) and said they were well done. STEAK IS NOT A FUCKING HAMBURGER. Well done takes longer than five fucking minutes. Overall, it was one of those nights where you just want to kill everyone in the restaurant then walk out, very calm and quiet.

On another note, I turn 21 on the 5th. I’m pretty pumped about that – but I’ll write another post later in the week devoted to that whole subject.

Food For Thought (That Might Break Your Teeth)

These are just a few of the many negative thoughts that ran through my mind Saturday while I was running my ass off for you fucking douchebags.

1) I have no idea what can possess someone to be so rude and belligerent to another human being that they don’t even know that they would make that human being cry. I have been a waitress for a year and a half and I have never, ever had a table make me cry until tonight. I hate to even admit that a table managed to make me cry. A couple of tables almost managed it – you grocery store bitches actually accomplished it. I hope you’re fucking proud of yourselves. Just because your husband left you and you’re in a shitty mood gives you absolutely no right at all to cuss me out and demand that you get your meals comped just because we were out of Jager. However, I extend a huge thanks to the lady in the group who came up to me after the whole debacle and apologized on behalf of everyone. (Even if you all did leave me a shitty fucking tip.)

2) Parents, CONTROL YOUR FUCKING CHILDREN. I’m seriously fucking tempted to put a sign on the party room door that says “Groups of children under 18 must be accompanied by an adult.”

3) Just because it’s your sixteenth birthday doesn’t mean you’re hot shit. I wanted to say to you, “BITCH, I will be 21 two weeks from today. When YOU can legally crack a beer, THEN call me. Oh, and if you’re gonna, even jokingly, try to order a glass of wine, at least get the fucking pronunciation correct. You’re SIXTEEN. Order that glass of pinot grigio in five years, with proper ID, and I’ll be ever-so-fucking-happy to get it for you. While I’m ranting at you, yelling the word ‘twatmuncher’ so loudly that the whole restaurant can hear you is not the best display of maturity.”

4) A grand total of $9.00 for a tip on a $200.00 bill, when the other server and I gave you good service, is inexcusable. Period.

5) Remember that your waitress is a person. Would you go up to someone you don’t even know and say some of the things you all said to me tonight? No, you fucking wouldn’t. I am a person, not a robot – I have feelings and as much as I try not to let it show, they are easily hurt. The next time your waitress or waiter walks up to your table, FUCKING REMEMBER THAT.

Fuck You And You Cheap Asses

I swear, everyone in my town must have decided to have dinner at the restaurant I work at last night. It had been a while since we’d been that busy on a Saturday night, so it was a bit refreshing – but it would be more refreshing if people would have left decent tips.

OK, OK, I can’t complain. When I did the math, it came out to be roughly fifteen percent. Fair enough, I suppose – except I did a damn good job of keeping up although I was in over my head and drowning to boot. There aren’t any stories about any exceptionally rude assholes. I wish I had one, though, so I’d have more reason to complain. Well, there were two tables that stick out. Both of them ran me like a dog playing fetch and then decided that although I’d catered to their every whim, they’d leave me a ten percent tip and an eleven percent tip, respectively. Where they got that logic, I have no idea.

Sorry this post wasn’t really all that interesting. I’m tired, sort of hungover, and didn’t really have anything interesting to say. Besides, I figured I’d better post something since I hadn’t posted in a while.

Why Are People So Cheap?

On that note, why does it seem like the busy nights are when all the cheapsters come out? They can drop fifty bucks on a meal, no problem – but they leave you a $2.00 tip. A whole two dollars! Wow! Now I can get those gumballs I’ve been wanting!

And why are college kids so rude? They look at me like I’m scum because they know I’m their age, and they’re in college – here I am, a lowly waitress. They can’t say thank you, they can’t smile – sometimes you want to grab them, pin them up against the wall by their neck, and say, “DIDN’T YOUR MAMA TEACH YOU MANNERS?!?!” Let’s just never mind the fact that I, the lowly waitress, probably have more common sense than most of them put together. (Maybe more overall intelligence too.)

I was back in the front tonight, obviously. We were busy – not slammed, but busy enough. Truth be told, I was hoping that we’d get slammed so I could make some cash. I guess I didn’t do too badly.

Oh, Z got the ax today. (You can only make so many lame excuses for calling off and/or being late before Boss Man gets sick of it, I suppose.) We hired a new dish washer, so I guess I have to come up with an initial for him. He’s P’s dad and is awesome at his job. He’s actually being trained on both the dishes and the line. He’s worked at restaurants for the majority of his life so he was awesome – kept up with the dishes, everything. He was great, and he’s a lot of fun to talk to. I could see where P got her coolness from when I got to talking to him.

Nothing really out of the ordinary tonight – same old douchebags, same old job.

Roll Call Part One – Work Life

I figured since I’m using initials (that aren’t the people’s real initials, by the way) instead of names for my co-workers in this blog, I should do a “roll call” of sorts to explain who each person is. This is part one – the roll call of people from work. Sometime in the future I may do a roll call of people in my personal life too. It depends on how involved into my personal life this blog gets.

A – Short for “Awesome Manager” as I decided in one of my posts. He’s laid back and, well, awesome, but he makes sure to get the job done. We’re pretty good friends at work and outside of work. He intimidated me when I first started there, until I learned how easy-going he really is.

C – Fellow waitress. She’s the one who trained me. She’s a big spazzy but hilarious and always a lot of fun to work with. She’s like another mother to me.

E – Another waitress. She tends to be a bit more quiet, and people always mistake her for a college student, even though she’s got a daughter who is my age.

G – Short for “Golden Child.” She is a day shift cook and the bane of everyone’s existence within the workplace. ‘Nuff said.

I – Another waitress. She’s the only person they have remaining that was part of their original crew. I don’t work with her that often, as I don’t typically work days, but every once in a while we work together. She’s quite nit-picky about things, but she’s a good person.

K – Day shift cook – she works with G and Boss Lady most of the time. She has a great sense of humor and is a very good friend, both inside work and outside.

M – Yet another waitress. This one’s tough to describe. She’s a great person, but tends to always want to be right – very dramatic too. All in all though, she’s a sweet person and we get along pretty well.

P – Yep, another waitress. She’s a year younger than me and shares my penchant for drinking, which makes her great. This is another good friend of mine at work.

R – This one is kinda-sorta a waitress. She works every once in a while, and is on the books, but usually only works a lot during the summer and during school vacations. She’s C’s daughter and is the same age as P. I went to school with her all throughout my school-going years, though we never actually knew each other that well until we started working together.

T – A dish washer where I work and a very good friend. He’s intelligent and insightful and has interesting views on anything and everything. He’s great to have a conversation with. He’s also great to talk to because unlike a lot of people, he actually listens when you talk.

W – Our new dishwasher and P’s father. I don’t know much about him yet, but he seems cool.

Dish Bitch Part Two

My second night of dishes. Luckily I get to go back to the front Friday after having tomorrow off. My shoulders are sore and I think I can honestly blame those hood vents. I made good time on dish tonight. I was certainly a lot faster than one of our regular dish washers….

Unfortunately, I have no interesting stories tonight. Being in the back, I didn’t have the chance to deal with any whackos in the front. Doing dishes is ultimately boringly easy work when all you have to do is the dishes. Rinse the dishes off, scrub any stuck food off, rack them up, run them through the washer, rinse and repeat (pun intended). Closing can be hard, but it was only hard the first time I worked dish a few months ago and then last night because I had forgotten a couple things and A had to tell me. Tonight I did pretty well on my own though, I think. Oh, well, there was one point where A decided to try to get me to think I had to scrub the grill bars. I just said, “OK,” because I knew he was just trying to get a rise out of me. So, it really wasn’t so bad – plus, a couple nights of dirty, hard, but sometimes boring dish work in exchange for a better check for this pay period was worth it, I think.

Just as long as those fucking hood vents stay clean for a long damn time.