Breathe In. Breathe Out. Breathe In. Breathe Out.

I hate my life.

At least I did tonight.

Tonight sucked in a big way.

It was one of those nights where you find yourself on edge worrying that someone is going to do the wrong thing and you are going to be fired.

They might for instance, sit at your table for close to four hours and then tip 4 dollars.

Or they might ask for separate checks when they had the exact same things.

Or they might get pissed because when they asked for champagne you gave them “sparkling wine.”

Or they might get upset because the potato skins have bacon.

Or they might decide that they don’t want to eat at your table, but they’ll sit there and wait till a “real” table becomes available.

Or they might sit down at your table, order two waters and a cheeseburger.

Or they might be customers from the other night that find you and ask to sit in your station again tonight and tip you the same as the other night which is about .04 percent.

Or they might be upset that they can’t have iced tea at 1:25.

Or they might be upset that even though you told them the kitchen was closing they can’t get another order or wings.

Or they might be annoyed that it’s 1:30 and the bar has announce “last call,” because it’s the city that never sleeps.

Or they might start gesticulating where is there food about 12 seconds after you leave the table with their order.

Or the kitchen manager might drop the ball and your table has to wait 20 minutes on a recook.

Or you might have to stand and wait 15 minutes while the dessert guy finishes chatting with the maintenance guy (probably about when they are going to go smoke pot later in the night.)

Or some girl named Shannon will get in your personal space and rub your belly even though you’ve told her if it happens again you are going to management.

Or some idiot new guy can’t figure out that you can’t stand in the door to the wait station.  Period.

Or some idiot girl breaking you, who has purple hair and a lip ring, is more concerned about getting your break over with than actually doing a good job.

Or the fucking managers who now have control over the music play nothing but hard core heavy metal music for the last 12 hours of the shift.

It was one of those night.

I have been home for at least two hours and I’m still in a pissy mood.

Adam just got up to pee and told me to go to bed.

I’ll see you guys tomorrow.



2 thoughts on “Breathe In. Breathe Out. Breathe In. Breathe Out.

  1. Java January 7, 2012 / 09:40

    Am I to assume that you will try to get a job that is not in the food service industry? May I recommend something that doesn’t involve dealing with the general public.

  2. Urspo January 8, 2012 / 15:39

    I hope 2012 gives you less of these days than last year.

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