I just got an email from one of the Mennonite "young adults" at my church inviting me to a BYOB St. Patrick's day party. Awkward. I mean he did make sure to tell people to bring local beer since its better for the environment, but I didn't even know that Mennonites were allowed to drink except in a renegade, on the DL fashion. Hmmm.
Also, I hate it when people that I am not friends with are too much like me. I mean, hellloooo. Get your own personality. Maybe you don't realize that you keep posting on facebook about all the things that I am interested in, but I was born first so just back off and leave my favorite things to me.
And finally, I enjoy being a waitress because there is no other legit job where you can monetarily benefit from being cute without feeling like a total skank. If you aren't good at being cute, well...sorry. But if you are you might as well waitress for a little while so that your cuteness can be appreciated (and rewarded) by grandmothers, frat boys, and families alike.
Plus waitressing encourages you to push the creativity envelope in devising bigger and better ways to escape the boredom of the dreaded Sunday double. Case in point: "I will pay you five bucks if you eat that whole tube of black pepper." Unfortunately nobody was cheap enough.
"If you put this liquid into your eye I will switch sections with you and close for you tonight." I did go for that one. I got to go home early and my eyes didn't even sting.
Label: "Black coke. Do not snort. If lost return to head waiter." That was the black pepper again.
"Let's all put fake tats on our necks like Rihanna and Chris Brown."
"Dude, let's put salt and ice on our hands and give ourselves frostbite." That little bit of faux frat bonding I refused to participate in. Way too That 70's Show. And the lesions they ended up were gross and lasted days. Not in a cool way.
And today we not only blew our way through seven Mensa crosswords, we also started constructing our own. The puzzle theme is "It's the Pits!" in honor of the working environment at the fine establishment that employs us.
"Phoebe, are you busy or do you think that rolling silverware and setting up the dining room could be more important than making a crossword?"
Passive aggressive bullshit pisses me off. Especially when every single person at that restaurant knows that all you have to do is ask and I will immediately embark on the completion of any task. And I do not appreciate being called "Miss Thang" when I have a legitimate complaint about that tone of voice used when addressing me.
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