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It's 2:13am.
Should I file this under Friday or Saturday? I tend to believe
that it is still the same day if you haven't slept yet. I feel
like days should be divided by sleep, not by the sun. I mean,
what the hell does the sun know?
I remember being really little and realizing the finality of
every moment of time. I couldn't even begin to tell you how
old I was, if I was 3, 6, or 9. I remember how my room was set
up though, so it must have been before I was 9, and I looked
at the clock. It was 11:59pm (I was always one for staying up
late), and it hit me that this was the very last minute of today.
I thought about how in a few seconds today would be over and
it would never come back again. Then I realized that this single
minute is the only minute like this it can ever be. This minute
of this day, of this month, of this year would never ever happen
again. After it changed, it would all be over, and every minute
is the same way. It felt like the greatest and saddest discovery
of all time, and looking back at nearly 24 years of age, I still
find it to be as profound of a concept as it ever was. It is
all passing, and we can't ever get it back. I'm glad I learned
this so young because what a horrible shock it would be to discover
this in my final days alive.
Tonight was okay. It wasn't great. My love for my workplace
and my coworkers seems to be setting in much more deeply than
I had originally anticipated when I began this job. I know that
I complain about waitressing and complain about where I work
so much, but I also know that this job and this place saved
me. I was crying every single day before I began this job, but
since I've started, a lot of weight has been lifted. I feel
like I've made real friends, people I can be totally myself
around. I look at them and see girls and guys I can laugh with,
people I like to share my time with, people I look forward to
seeing when I strap on my apron and head out the door for a
night of scraping for that extra dollar in tips. It seems like
nearly everyone is coming out for my birthday, and I feel so
loved. I feel like I haven't had this many friends in a long
time, and these new friends will meet my old ones and my family.
It's like a real party, and we're going to have a great time.
It feels really nice, and though I can't wait tables forever,
it'll be bittersweet whenever I do leave.
Tonight was a normal mix of stingy fuckers and generous couples.
I felt bad because I was ready for the worst, and I was proved
wrong over and over. I'd storm away with the book in my hand
thinking, "I know these assholes didn't leave me shit,"
and would open it up to see over 20% lying there for me. It
happened maybe three times tonight, so I stopped being such
a harsh judge of people, and I began giving the benefit of the
doubt. Then these guys sat down. They were very pleasant and
they wanted to walk around, but were afraid to close the tab
with me because they wanted to give me good business. Their
attitude and concern for me was so great, I felt positive that
their tip would reflect the same. No. Mother fuckers barely
left me $15. I hate when that shit happens.
That's the problem with guys. See, I like having girl tables.
I've always been more comfortable with girls, which I'm sure
is directly related to my all-girls middle and high school experiences.
With guys, I feel like they want me to flirt or something, laugh
at their damn jokes, when I don't like to do that. Sure, if
I did, I'd probably make more money, and I definitely need money
now like I never have, but I can't pretend to be interested
in anyone if I'm not. I just won't do it. It's disrespectful
to me, and it's disrespectful to whom I give my real attention.
But you end up in this tricky situation. Ladies, help me out
on this one. Have you ever had a table where someone at it asks
you out BEFORE you've given them the bill? Well, you turn them
down as kindly and graciously as you can, telling them you are
unavailable but are flattered by the interest. You make it as
comfortable as possible for both parties, but there's an undeniable
fact here: he's been rejected, and he doesn't like it. All of
a sudden, he's rude, and ordering shit without looking in your
eyes. Next thing you know, you get $12 on a $110 tab, and it's
all because you didn't tell him you wanted to have his damn
children. Fucking asshole. Look, I'm real sorry your pride was
hurt here (actually, I'm not sorry at all), but making you feel
like you're hot when I would never look at you twice is NOT
in my job description. You want to tip based on your sex drive?
Find a whore, but I'M your goddamn waitress. You have a drink
in your hand and belly full of food I brought for you - then
pay me my goddamn 20%!
Tonight I had Mr. and Mrs. Drip. I swear, the word "drip"
has never been more appropriate for a couple. I had to check
their pulse periodically to make sure they were still alive.
In fact, I thought they were wax museum exhibits when I first
saw them at my table. They spoke so softly that I had to press
my ear into their mouths to get their orders. They took 20 minutes
to pick a wine, which gives you about 3 minutes to read over
each type of wine over and over again. They finally got food
after about 40 minutes, and they picked at it like they're allergic
to food entirely. They didn't speak. They didn't speak to each
other, they didn't speak to me. They didn't look pissed at all,
and they didn't seem to be in a fight. This was an example of
the kind of couples I see all the time even when I'm not working
- the ones that don't seem to have fun at all. It's so weird.
I mean, it's like they're in relationships because they were
told to be, but they have no interest in each other whatsoever.
They got their check a billion years later, and after they paid
it, they sat there for another 40 minutes. It's a Friday night,
get the fuck out of my section if you're just going to drip
there. So, I grabbed the tab, and the damn breathing doorknobs
left me under 20%. Wasting my table all night, and they can't
even leave me a decent tip. So, here's an example of how slow
they were: When they were getting up to leave the table, they
were walking dripping so slowly towards the bar that
before they even reached the bar, the table was cleared and
reset behind them. The distance from their table to the bar?
Approximately 30 feet. It really doesn't take long. I told the
whole story to Patrick about how amazed I was at these two so
completely lame individuals, and he looked up and said, "Is
that them?" and he pointed to the slowest moving, droopy,
sad-eyed, boring, stupid people in all the bar who STILL had
not yet made it to the counter. "Yup. That's them."
They remained at the restaurant until closing. I hadn't realized
it until around 12:30am when I saw the girl standing there as
waxy and still as ever, and I looked at her and burst out laughing.
What the hell is wrong with you? How are you so drippy? How?
It's just so strange.
Okay, it's nearly 3am, and I'm tired. Sorry for typos, but I
don't feel like rereading.
Actually, let me tack something on here...
I checked my email today and received quite a few people upset
about my 2/27 comments about Mr. Rogers. One person warned me
of getting sued for saying that I once heard he was a child
molester, then saying, "Is he?" Doesn't sound like
facts. I did not say he was a child molester. I said that I
thought I heard he was. It was just the last thing I remembered
hearing about him, and maybe I had never heard it at all, or
maybe it was a rumor from a long time ago. We can all relax
now, I did not announce to the world that he did such a thing.
I was not intending to defame a dead man. I thought it had been
announced to me. I was also warned to do research before saying
whatever comes to mind. This whole site once came with a disclaimer
that I just streamline thoughts here and don't research anything
because it's whatever comes to mind. I should put that disclaimer
back up. I'm aware I'm not the Boston Globe. I don't claim to
be a journalist. Also, I don't remember hearing that PeeWee
was a child molester. I just remember that story when he flashed
himself at the porn place. Wasn't he arrested for indecent exposure?
I don't know. I don't care enough to know. See, that's my point.
I don't know, so I asked. Also, I'm sorry Mr. Rogers died, but
that doesn't mean I have to like his show and hate PeeWees.
I can appreciate his show was successful and brought joy to
millions, but I just didn't like it for myself, that's all.
Yes, it is coincidental that I brought up PeeWee when he apparently
has had child pornography suits against him, but I only mentioned
PeeWee because both Mr. Rogers and PeeWee were the two shows
my mother hated having to watch with us because she found one
to be boring the other to be obnoxious. I'm telling you that
I was more entertained as a child by the colors and craziness
of PeeWee's than of Mr. Rogers's changing shoes and hand puppets.
If people grew from it, then I think it's wonderful. In fact,
the show had to be great if it lasted so damn long. Also, as
far as his work goes, without having "done research",
I hear he has contributed a lot to the world. I never said he
was a bad man, I just didn't know he hadn't died yet, had heard
some bad things about him, and pointed out that my mom thought
his show was boring. I did not know much about the man, and
I still don't. I didn't even think many people had passionate
feelings towards him. I really didn't. I am ignorant to his
accomplishments. I admit to that. Seriously though, he made
many people happy (and got quite a following of defenders at
it seems), so I'm sorry if I showed him disrespect. I shouldn't
even be defending myself on this one, but it hit a few nerves
out there, so I figured I could mention something about it here.
Mr. Rogers was good. He accomplished more than I will in my
lifetime, that for sure. I apologize to those who are grieving
him. I meant him no offense. I just remembered something I heard
that was wrong and I'm sorry I brought it up.
People, I think it's not a great idea to ever take me all too
seriously. I don't know what I'm talking about, I just talk.
I'll try to be careful about certain things from now on.
...little later
Okay, I'm thinking about it, and I guess it was bad. I will
say that I seriously didn't know much about him or that he was
so heavily honored, I really didn't know. I guess it was bad
that I said those things. If it were my family, I'd be offended.
I just didn't know, so I'm sorry for my carelessness. I'll at
least supply heavily worded disclaimers when I make statements
about people without knowing any facts. |
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