Sunday, December 12, 2004
Goddamnit if Weezer doesn't rule
The weirdest thing happened tonight. Crazy really. Can you guess what happened? Can You?
I had a good night at work. Very good. I was a rock star. I was busy, and I was taking care of business. I was letting everybody know what's up.
We had a meeting this morning, an emergency meeting my boss called to order. He said it couldn't wait until our regular monthly meeting, which is scheduled next weekend. He said he feared our service has been sub-par, and we needed to go over our expected standards.
Now, if your boss said that, would you want to go to the meeting? Shit, no. Especially since we all knew it was going to last at least two hours, and mostly expected it to be a two-hour lecture, kind of like being yelled at by your parents, except worse because your parents can't fire you if you talk back.
But this meeting was different. He remained calm. We talked about stuff. Actually, I didn't say a damn thing, but I listened. We even laughed some.
They gave us a test first thing when we walked in. A friggen test. It was the last written test everybody takes before they can get on the floor. And I took it and I know I owned.
For some reason I found satisfaction in that. That I know my shit. I am good at my job.
Anyway, so something crazy happened tonight. All the girls were helping each other out. And we were busy as hell for a little while, but somehow things were running smoothly. I had at least 12 tables at one point. There was this section in the back that was designated as pick-up, meaning it didn't have a waitress, and it filled up and I capitalized on that shit.
So, anyway, I'm a balla. And it helped that the music is so much better there at night. I usually work during the day, when they play all this John Mayer shit. But tonight, I got to hear The Postal Service, and Jimmy Eat World, and Modest Mouse. But I think what made me the happiest was when "The Good Life" came on, and we were just starting to clear out. It was half past one, so there weren't all these loud drunk people talking over it so much anymore, and I sang along loudly with my friend Carmen and danced around the whole time.
"I don't wanna be an old man anymore/ it's been a year or two since I was down on the floor/ Shakin' booty makin' sweet love all the night/ It's time I got back to the good life/ It's time I got back/ It's time I got back/ And I don't even know how I got off the track/ I want to go back YEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"
People were looking at me funny, but I didn't care. I think they were mostly entertained.
Oh, but one thing that happened tonight, and I'm going to have to check on this, but my first table of the night were these hard-core vegetarians, and they told me Guinness has pork in it.
"Nooooooooooooooooooooo," I thought. "Not Guinness. It can't be. I don't know, but like I said they seemed pretty hard core. They said I could find it on the Internet. I'm lazy right now, and I'm afraid to know the truth, so for now, it's no big deal.
But then, later on, my friend Nathan came in. Nate Dawwwwwg! (You have to say it like a gangsta). Nathan and I have been friends for five years. We've had many Guinnesses together. Many, many drinks together. Especially when he lived in the dorms at UH and he used to have a smoking room. Party central.
So I told Nathan what I heard, and he goes, "That's not true. Vegetarians are always saying shit like that. I don't see why. There is no pork in Guinness. Vegetarians just always go about depriving themselves of things that are good."
And I argued with him a little, and laughed a lot, until finally, he got the last word.
"The only time Guinness is ever going to have pork in it is if I stick my dick in it."
Hahahahahahahaha. Dude, that made me laugh uncontrollably. The other waitresses were looking at me like whatthefuck, but they did not know the conversation that had transpired.
Oh, man, it's making me laugh right now even.
In conclusion, this has been a lot of rambling. Guess I just worked hard tonight and came home with no one to talk to. But it was a good night. I can say that.
The weirdest thing happened tonight. Crazy really. Can you guess what happened? Can You?
I had a good night at work. Very good. I was a rock star. I was busy, and I was taking care of business. I was letting everybody know what's up.
We had a meeting this morning, an emergency meeting my boss called to order. He said it couldn't wait until our regular monthly meeting, which is scheduled next weekend. He said he feared our service has been sub-par, and we needed to go over our expected standards.
Now, if your boss said that, would you want to go to the meeting? Shit, no. Especially since we all knew it was going to last at least two hours, and mostly expected it to be a two-hour lecture, kind of like being yelled at by your parents, except worse because your parents can't fire you if you talk back.
But this meeting was different. He remained calm. We talked about stuff. Actually, I didn't say a damn thing, but I listened. We even laughed some.
They gave us a test first thing when we walked in. A friggen test. It was the last written test everybody takes before they can get on the floor. And I took it and I know I owned.
For some reason I found satisfaction in that. That I know my shit. I am good at my job.
Anyway, so something crazy happened tonight. All the girls were helping each other out. And we were busy as hell for a little while, but somehow things were running smoothly. I had at least 12 tables at one point. There was this section in the back that was designated as pick-up, meaning it didn't have a waitress, and it filled up and I capitalized on that shit.
So, anyway, I'm a balla. And it helped that the music is so much better there at night. I usually work during the day, when they play all this John Mayer shit. But tonight, I got to hear The Postal Service, and Jimmy Eat World, and Modest Mouse. But I think what made me the happiest was when "The Good Life" came on, and we were just starting to clear out. It was half past one, so there weren't all these loud drunk people talking over it so much anymore, and I sang along loudly with my friend Carmen and danced around the whole time.
"I don't wanna be an old man anymore/ it's been a year or two since I was down on the floor/ Shakin' booty makin' sweet love all the night/ It's time I got back to the good life/ It's time I got back/ It's time I got back/ And I don't even know how I got off the track/ I want to go back YEAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!"
People were looking at me funny, but I didn't care. I think they were mostly entertained.
Oh, but one thing that happened tonight, and I'm going to have to check on this, but my first table of the night were these hard-core vegetarians, and they told me Guinness has pork in it.
"Nooooooooooooooooooooo," I thought. "Not Guinness. It can't be. I don't know, but like I said they seemed pretty hard core. They said I could find it on the Internet. I'm lazy right now, and I'm afraid to know the truth, so for now, it's no big deal.
But then, later on, my friend Nathan came in. Nate Dawwwwwg! (You have to say it like a gangsta). Nathan and I have been friends for five years. We've had many Guinnesses together. Many, many drinks together. Especially when he lived in the dorms at UH and he used to have a smoking room. Party central.
So I told Nathan what I heard, and he goes, "That's not true. Vegetarians are always saying shit like that. I don't see why. There is no pork in Guinness. Vegetarians just always go about depriving themselves of things that are good."
And I argued with him a little, and laughed a lot, until finally, he got the last word.
"The only time Guinness is ever going to have pork in it is if I stick my dick in it."
Hahahahahahahaha. Dude, that made me laugh uncontrollably. The other waitresses were looking at me like whatthefuck, but they did not know the conversation that had transpired.
Oh, man, it's making me laugh right now even.
In conclusion, this has been a lot of rambling. Guess I just worked hard tonight and came home with no one to talk to. But it was a good night. I can say that.
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