Gap Body scents....Dream was definitely their top seller...I think in lotion form. But there was also Heaven for the slight nonconformists, and Om had a short heydey in the older-than-middle school crowd. Mmmm. They were yummy.
Butterfly clips...Those were big like whoa. They broke so much though, and didn't hold hair well. I suppose they were mostly supposed to be ornamental.
American Girls...I have Kirstin, of course. And I never took her hair our of the gorgeous braid things because I was too enamored with the sleekness. Judging from the looks of other peoples' 10 year-old American Girl dolls' hair, I was better off leaving it. I really think that what American Girl doll you had slash wanted is quite telling too.
Mini Sephora perfumes...I gave and received those for so many birthdays. And the names were all in french so often it was a fairly normal scent like caramel or strawberry that just had an exotic sounding name. I still have some, but after years of keeping them in a cupboard they kind of all smell the same.
Beanie babies...Lines around the block for those. Enough said. I still have the "special" Princess Di one thanks to the other Stephen and his familia.
Gellie Rolls and Milky pens...Is that how they were spelled? Those pens resulted in countless hours of carefully crafted hand art, much to the displeasure of 6th grade teachers. But they would always stop working every now and then and girls would proceed to alternately shake the shit out of them and huff into them in order to make them write on skin again.
Bubble tea...Yes, its still a huge and enjoyable fad. I appreciated it more when it was a novelty though. The very very bestest flavor ever is the Pink Lady at WOW Bubble Tea on the Ave. Azns+enormo flatscreens+Christian choruses, anyone? Olive, KK and I used to laugh endlessly at that. And then we would go into the quad and spit the our leftover tapioca bubbles in the general direction of unfortunate strangers.
Dicks...Still a winner in my book.
J Crew flip flops...High school girl must-have. Plus very popular among preppy boys.
Bib overalls...All the rage among 5th grade girls. We were soooo rad.
Jellies...Also popularized by Gap. Gap kids, mainly. Recently has made it back into the mainstream now that all the 2nd graders that wore them are now in their twenties and having early adult life nostalgia crises.
Otis Spunkmeyer cookies...Again, I think my spelling has gone awry. And they qualify as a fad, more of a religion really. But most people I know haven't had them since middle school since that was the one place that they were readily available.
The Spice Girls...I always had to be Scary, which was ridiculously annoying. I do have an amazing studded camo miniskirt and a knack for putting my hair up into cone-shapes as a result though.
Fads are often annoying. But let's be honest, they are fucking fun more often than not. And very unifying...until you get to the my Abercrombie skank-top is better than your American Eagle graphic tee age.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Moonbounce anyone?
Restaurant work acquaints you with the craziest of people. There are the flamboyant head waiters who have a system of punishments for the busboys (hands in pocket=hug, cellphone out=booty slap), the anonymous staff people who leave their stashes in condiment cups around the restaurant...and then, there are the crazy customers.
I don't know if you remember the woman at the John McCain town hall meeting who helped seal the deal for Obama by asserting into her microphone that Barack "can't be trusted. He's, he's, he's....an Arab!" Well the woman who came in to the restaurant tonight looked remarkably similar...and turned out to be borderline certifiable as well.
First I came to take her drink order and she promptly responded with "what comes with beans in it?" I politely directed her to the Mexican entrees on the menu giving myself silent snaps for being on point. Then she wanted to know if I could convince the kitchen to make a veggie enchilada with the refried beans on the inside. I said I would do my best and prepared to move towards the kitchen but she stopped me as if to place another order. She then spent three entire minutes scouring the menu silently while I stood there. Did she want me to leave? Was I expected to wait? I compromised by staying there and nonchalantly staring at the ceiling. Finally she switched her order to a side of rice, a side of beans and a side of veggies....which at our restaurant comes to a whopping 12 bucks. I sighed in relief and scrambled away to the kitchen.
Next thing I know she follows me into the servers' station (um, boundary issues?) and changes her order back to the refried enchilada concoction. Whatever. I put it into the computer and bring her her tea.
But, after I head back to plead her case to the kitchen and succeed in getting an affirmative on the enchilada I glance out the window and see her racing down the street. Wtfuck? I go over to the table and her tea is sitting untouched. She has removed her bag but left a pair of what look like black space gloves. My manager tells me that maybe she forgot something in her car and is racing off to get it. Nope, next I see her zooming away down the street in her car.
I don't get it! If the prices were too high she could have left as soon as she saw the menu. If she didn't want the food she wouldn't have been so torn between her trio of sides and the enchilada.
Weird.
But even funnier than that was going into the kitchen only to see a foot sticking out of a metal cupboard on the floor. Reese, one of the cooks, crawled in there to hide (he pulled boxes in front of himself and everything) so that he could talk on the phone. I laughed until I got hiccups. And I still have them.
"You've got to get yourself together.
You got stuck in the moment and now you can't get out of it."
-U2
I don't know if you remember the woman at the John McCain town hall meeting who helped seal the deal for Obama by asserting into her microphone that Barack "can't be trusted. He's, he's, he's....an Arab!" Well the woman who came in to the restaurant tonight looked remarkably similar...and turned out to be borderline certifiable as well.
First I came to take her drink order and she promptly responded with "what comes with beans in it?" I politely directed her to the Mexican entrees on the menu giving myself silent snaps for being on point. Then she wanted to know if I could convince the kitchen to make a veggie enchilada with the refried beans on the inside. I said I would do my best and prepared to move towards the kitchen but she stopped me as if to place another order. She then spent three entire minutes scouring the menu silently while I stood there. Did she want me to leave? Was I expected to wait? I compromised by staying there and nonchalantly staring at the ceiling. Finally she switched her order to a side of rice, a side of beans and a side of veggies....which at our restaurant comes to a whopping 12 bucks. I sighed in relief and scrambled away to the kitchen.
Next thing I know she follows me into the servers' station (um, boundary issues?) and changes her order back to the refried enchilada concoction. Whatever. I put it into the computer and bring her her tea.
But, after I head back to plead her case to the kitchen and succeed in getting an affirmative on the enchilada I glance out the window and see her racing down the street. Wtfuck? I go over to the table and her tea is sitting untouched. She has removed her bag but left a pair of what look like black space gloves. My manager tells me that maybe she forgot something in her car and is racing off to get it. Nope, next I see her zooming away down the street in her car.
I don't get it! If the prices were too high she could have left as soon as she saw the menu. If she didn't want the food she wouldn't have been so torn between her trio of sides and the enchilada.
Weird.
But even funnier than that was going into the kitchen only to see a foot sticking out of a metal cupboard on the floor. Reese, one of the cooks, crawled in there to hide (he pulled boxes in front of himself and everything) so that he could talk on the phone. I laughed until I got hiccups. And I still have them.
"You've got to get yourself together.
You got stuck in the moment and now you can't get out of it."
-U2
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Get Busy
My mom was just sent an advertisement for a class for adults at a nearby school: How to write your own obituary. Ooh! Sign me up.
The morbid thing is that I would totally go for that. Not that class. But writing my own. If you care about the way you will be remembered, then why leave those memorable last words about you to someone else? They should hire me to advertise that class.
The kids were a hot mess today. Lots of fighting with and hitting each other. And lots of going over my head and getting their parents' approval for something that I said no to. A babysitter's worst nightmare is watching kids when the parents are still there. You are constantly being watched which is unsettling and your authority over the kids becomes minimal. I will be more pleased next time I watch the kids...I will be nannying and not babysitting because the parents won't be there to say yes to Nutella and putting together tents.
And I will be able to direct activities away from imaginary play (the 4 year-old ordering me to wake up and go to sleep and be eaten by a tiger, etc., etc) and to more interesting things like making play-do and frosting cookies and going to the Children's Museum.
I do have to remember, though, that the family really needs me and I am helping them out quite a lot now that their previous nanny quit unexpectedly during all the other chaos they are going through. Helping out is always a good thing. Plus I'm making bank.
Ooh! Chloe and I were talking about how Mitch used to randomly jet across the US to see her friends for brief periods of time when she lived with us. I think maybe I want to jet somewhere too. That would be excessive. But I can be excessive if I want to, right? Right.
"I love the get busy. It tones your abs, thighs and butt. Plus, you can do it in clubs!"
-We now have over 100 channels thanks to Direct TV...and we end up watching infomercials.
The morbid thing is that I would totally go for that. Not that class. But writing my own. If you care about the way you will be remembered, then why leave those memorable last words about you to someone else? They should hire me to advertise that class.
The kids were a hot mess today. Lots of fighting with and hitting each other. And lots of going over my head and getting their parents' approval for something that I said no to. A babysitter's worst nightmare is watching kids when the parents are still there. You are constantly being watched which is unsettling and your authority over the kids becomes minimal. I will be more pleased next time I watch the kids...I will be nannying and not babysitting because the parents won't be there to say yes to Nutella and putting together tents.
And I will be able to direct activities away from imaginary play (the 4 year-old ordering me to wake up and go to sleep and be eaten by a tiger, etc., etc) and to more interesting things like making play-do and frosting cookies and going to the Children's Museum.
I do have to remember, though, that the family really needs me and I am helping them out quite a lot now that their previous nanny quit unexpectedly during all the other chaos they are going through. Helping out is always a good thing. Plus I'm making bank.
Ooh! Chloe and I were talking about how Mitch used to randomly jet across the US to see her friends for brief periods of time when she lived with us. I think maybe I want to jet somewhere too. That would be excessive. But I can be excessive if I want to, right? Right.
"I love the get busy. It tones your abs, thighs and butt. Plus, you can do it in clubs!"
-We now have over 100 channels thanks to Direct TV...and we end up watching infomercials.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Mishmash
I am quite certain that if the institution of religion did not exist, a lot more people would be open to faith.
Even people who profess themselves to be opposed to believing in something that is by virtue unprovable. (And here I do mean unprovable, which is too often substituted with unknowable.)
Damn it. I feel like I am always on the defensive. I think that is because I always consent to arguing things on other people's terms. But that, like many have observed, is because people who disagree with faith can only argue within the field of reason. Which is fine for an argument about the affects of faith or the institution of religion. But in order to argue about faith you have to delve into a playing field that is not refereed by reason. Which is a place where people who profess themselves to be without faith generally cannot or will not go.
Do I think that I am smarter than people without faith? No. Do I think that I am more content? Perhaps. Do I think that I can understand their position on my faith and their reason for their lack thereof? Yes. Do I think that they can understand the basis for my faith, or the reasons for my confidence in my faith? Not entirely. Do I think that deep down they would like to be able to make faith compatible with their sense of reason and rationality? Definitely.
"So though we cannot know
If everything glittering
Will turn into the gold..."
-Peter Sallet, Heart of Mine
This was a perfect song choice for Olive's memorial service if I may say so myself. Keeping the Faith was on the other day, which reminded me of her...and of this song. But I can't remember what happens in the end, and whether she ends up with the pastor friend or the rabbi friend, or neither.
Today Israel bombed a UN school. Those fuckers are absolutely insane.
Aaaand, I got a package from Chloe today!!! Yay for things that are salty and sweet and silver and sparkly! I feel loved now. I will call her tonight and Emi tomorrow. I talked to Aaron last night. And then I will call Stephen maybe ummm Saturday. And then maybe other Stephen on Sunday night? See? Its like a virtual social life! The sad thing is that I actually was going to go out tonight and meet up with people, but I am too tired from my day with snotty (but cute) toddlers.
"I'm dead. Operate on me. And make it hurt!"
-The 4 year old
Even people who profess themselves to be opposed to believing in something that is by virtue unprovable. (And here I do mean unprovable, which is too often substituted with unknowable.)
Damn it. I feel like I am always on the defensive. I think that is because I always consent to arguing things on other people's terms. But that, like many have observed, is because people who disagree with faith can only argue within the field of reason. Which is fine for an argument about the affects of faith or the institution of religion. But in order to argue about faith you have to delve into a playing field that is not refereed by reason. Which is a place where people who profess themselves to be without faith generally cannot or will not go.
Do I think that I am smarter than people without faith? No. Do I think that I am more content? Perhaps. Do I think that I can understand their position on my faith and their reason for their lack thereof? Yes. Do I think that they can understand the basis for my faith, or the reasons for my confidence in my faith? Not entirely. Do I think that deep down they would like to be able to make faith compatible with their sense of reason and rationality? Definitely.
"So though we cannot know
If everything glittering
Will turn into the gold..."
-Peter Sallet, Heart of Mine
This was a perfect song choice for Olive's memorial service if I may say so myself. Keeping the Faith was on the other day, which reminded me of her...and of this song. But I can't remember what happens in the end, and whether she ends up with the pastor friend or the rabbi friend, or neither.
Today Israel bombed a UN school. Those fuckers are absolutely insane.
Aaaand, I got a package from Chloe today!!! Yay for things that are salty and sweet and silver and sparkly! I feel loved now. I will call her tonight and Emi tomorrow. I talked to Aaron last night. And then I will call Stephen maybe ummm Saturday. And then maybe other Stephen on Sunday night? See? Its like a virtual social life! The sad thing is that I actually was going to go out tonight and meet up with people, but I am too tired from my day with snotty (but cute) toddlers.
"I'm dead. Operate on me. And make it hurt!"
-The 4 year old
Cop Out
I didn't fight Ted.
Argh. And I was all prepared to at least have words with him today. Its just that there were only four waiters at work and so he had an opportunity to talk to all of us, and was doing so in quite a friendly manner. I just couldn't flip out at him while he was being so congenial.
I still am not impressed with him, mind you. The statements he makes expose a pompousness that is so unattractive that I will not sully the sex appeal of the term cocky by applying it to Ted.
Here is a faithful account of his misdeeds of today:
1) He said that Twilight was "one of the most horrible movies ever made." Get over yourself. Twilight is a movie made for teen girls or for people who have enjoyed the book series. It does not claim to be mindblowing or even understandable to people who do not fit into either of those categories. And even then, Twilight far surpassed other film adaptations of "kids books". The last few Harry Potter movies for instance have been legendary for the schizo plots and bad angsty teen acting. By contrast, Twilight was riveting and endearing.
Pshaw. Ted said that the only movies he's ever walked out of were Twilight and Starsky and Hutch. Whatever. I have seen much worse. I mean how can you sit through Anchorman (yes, I know its ragingly popular), which has about as much wit as a 20-second sex joke, and feel compelled to walk out of Starsky and Hutch, which is actually funny.
2) He has worked at the restaurant exactly one and a half weeks and today he tells me "oh yeah, we have been trying to get the music in the Loco dining room to match the music in the Alonso's dining room." We?!?! We who? Him and management? I am so sure. Furthermore that is the oddest statement because Loco plays Mexican music and Alonso's plays slightly passe pop...making them match would entail switching them altogether.
When I asked him about it he said, "you know, we've been trying to find the Alonso's station and start playing it in Loco." First of all, I am fairly positive that the manager/owner does NOT want Loco to be playing pop or it already would be. Second of all, if they did want to play the Alonso's station in Loco the managers could do so easily because they know what station they play in each restaurant and they can simply use the Loco music controller to tune the fuck into the same little numbers that are on the front of the Alonso's music controller.
Lunatic. At this point I am figuring out that half of what he says is a crock of bullshit. "We" my ass.
3)He spoke to me in a very condescending manner about how this is my first job in a restaurant and how he has worked in the industry for years. Good riddance. That should make it embarrassing that I get way more tips that he does. Probably because I am way cuter as a result of not having a chipped tooth!
On the other hand, he does drive a scooter.
I will let this go for now, I suppose. But if he stands in front of my face one more time, I will address that shit immediately.
"I like your hair. It's a little 80's, a little I don't care."
-Beizing
Argh. And I was all prepared to at least have words with him today. Its just that there were only four waiters at work and so he had an opportunity to talk to all of us, and was doing so in quite a friendly manner. I just couldn't flip out at him while he was being so congenial.
I still am not impressed with him, mind you. The statements he makes expose a pompousness that is so unattractive that I will not sully the sex appeal of the term cocky by applying it to Ted.
Here is a faithful account of his misdeeds of today:
1) He said that Twilight was "one of the most horrible movies ever made." Get over yourself. Twilight is a movie made for teen girls or for people who have enjoyed the book series. It does not claim to be mindblowing or even understandable to people who do not fit into either of those categories. And even then, Twilight far surpassed other film adaptations of "kids books". The last few Harry Potter movies for instance have been legendary for the schizo plots and bad angsty teen acting. By contrast, Twilight was riveting and endearing.
Pshaw. Ted said that the only movies he's ever walked out of were Twilight and Starsky and Hutch. Whatever. I have seen much worse. I mean how can you sit through Anchorman (yes, I know its ragingly popular), which has about as much wit as a 20-second sex joke, and feel compelled to walk out of Starsky and Hutch, which is actually funny.
2) He has worked at the restaurant exactly one and a half weeks and today he tells me "oh yeah, we have been trying to get the music in the Loco dining room to match the music in the Alonso's dining room." We?!?! We who? Him and management? I am so sure. Furthermore that is the oddest statement because Loco plays Mexican music and Alonso's plays slightly passe pop...making them match would entail switching them altogether.
When I asked him about it he said, "you know, we've been trying to find the Alonso's station and start playing it in Loco." First of all, I am fairly positive that the manager/owner does NOT want Loco to be playing pop or it already would be. Second of all, if they did want to play the Alonso's station in Loco the managers could do so easily because they know what station they play in each restaurant and they can simply use the Loco music controller to tune the fuck into the same little numbers that are on the front of the Alonso's music controller.
Lunatic. At this point I am figuring out that half of what he says is a crock of bullshit. "We" my ass.
3)He spoke to me in a very condescending manner about how this is my first job in a restaurant and how he has worked in the industry for years. Good riddance. That should make it embarrassing that I get way more tips that he does. Probably because I am way cuter as a result of not having a chipped tooth!
On the other hand, he does drive a scooter.
I will let this go for now, I suppose. But if he stands in front of my face one more time, I will address that shit immediately.
"I like your hair. It's a little 80's, a little I don't care."
-Beizing
Sleeplessness
I live in a state of near constant stress. Its really ridiculous. I will probably die early from some sort of system break down because of it.
I stress about everything. And when things go wrong it feels like the end of the world to me. I am a big fan of making dramatic statements like "I should just kill myself!" or "this is the worst day of my life" much to the chagrin of my mother and Chloe. And its not that I really believe either of those things...its just that I really experience stress so strongly that I need a verbal outlet for my inner turmoil.
And its not like I haven't been proven right time and time again that where there is any opportunity for things to go wrong they will. You only visit South Africa once every 4 years and you're coming this year? Whoops, your family there is magically taking a vacay to Ireland and will not be seeing you. You have the first polisci exam of your life and show up at the time posted on MYUW? Poor you, the exam was at a different time and you missed it. You paid 50 dollars in wire transfers and school fees to order a transcript to be sent from UCT to LSAC three months ago? Time will slide by and countless office people will assure you on the phone that they sent it, but it will never arrive.
Argh. But the thing is, in the end everything does work out to some extent, which makes all my sleepless nights tossing and turning in bed useless......Hmmmm, or is it my sensitivity to stress that enables me to take control of impossible situations and ensure the eventual production of solutions? Perhaps. I would prefer to think of it that way, I guess. But I would also prefer to stop stressing and enjoy life once in awhile without having to use my expert denial skills to push away my underlying feelings of impending doom.
Well anyway, I am happy tonight because in the throws of insomnia I had the bright idea to call UCT about my transcript once again, and they told me that the courier service I ordered finally picked up my package. Ahoy! Aaaand, then I called the courier service and they said that it is already in Pennsylvania and it will arrive tomorrow. I am excessively relieved.
But I swear they must inject those cough drops with caffeine because I still can't manage even a hint of a doze.
Maybe I should paint my nails.
I stress about everything. And when things go wrong it feels like the end of the world to me. I am a big fan of making dramatic statements like "I should just kill myself!" or "this is the worst day of my life" much to the chagrin of my mother and Chloe. And its not that I really believe either of those things...its just that I really experience stress so strongly that I need a verbal outlet for my inner turmoil.
And its not like I haven't been proven right time and time again that where there is any opportunity for things to go wrong they will. You only visit South Africa once every 4 years and you're coming this year? Whoops, your family there is magically taking a vacay to Ireland and will not be seeing you. You have the first polisci exam of your life and show up at the time posted on MYUW? Poor you, the exam was at a different time and you missed it. You paid 50 dollars in wire transfers and school fees to order a transcript to be sent from UCT to LSAC three months ago? Time will slide by and countless office people will assure you on the phone that they sent it, but it will never arrive.
Argh. But the thing is, in the end everything does work out to some extent, which makes all my sleepless nights tossing and turning in bed useless......Hmmmm, or is it my sensitivity to stress that enables me to take control of impossible situations and ensure the eventual production of solutions? Perhaps. I would prefer to think of it that way, I guess. But I would also prefer to stop stressing and enjoy life once in awhile without having to use my expert denial skills to push away my underlying feelings of impending doom.
Well anyway, I am happy tonight because in the throws of insomnia I had the bright idea to call UCT about my transcript once again, and they told me that the courier service I ordered finally picked up my package. Ahoy! Aaaand, then I called the courier service and they said that it is already in Pennsylvania and it will arrive tomorrow. I am excessively relieved.
But I swear they must inject those cough drops with caffeine because I still can't manage even a hint of a doze.
Maybe I should paint my nails.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Go to Hell
I am filled with rage.
And if things continue everyone at work will find out that I am not the naive push-over that they assume that I am. I have been exceedingly polite since I started this job. I am polite to all the staff because everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. And whenever another staff member was rude to me I would just ignore them until the chaos passed (at the restaurant people are usually only rude when we are in a state of panic trying to feed two dining rooms full of Roland Park high rollers).
That being said, I am about to snap. There is a boy at work....let's call him Ted. Scrappy kid, that one. He got hired about two weeks ago. So, compared to me he is very very very new. And yet, he hasn't hesitated to blatantly disrespect me no less that four times. He's worse than fucking Judas! Well, aside from the fact that he didn't pretend to respect me in the first place.
First day on the job after three days of training he shows up with a black eye. Apparently he got into a bar fight when some "crazy chick" attacked him. He also is small and wiry and has a chipped tooth which I don't doubt that he got in a similar situation. His physical abnormalities, however, serve to endear him to most of the staff, and he accounts his misfortunes with hilarity. By his second day on the job he gained familiarity with some of the main waitresses, some of whom still don't seem to like me...hmph.
This brings us to Slight #1:
We are all standing in a haphazard semicircle around the waiters' booth at the back of the restaurant. He walks up. There are plenty of openings in the circle for him to stand and plenty walls and surfaces for him to lean on like the rest of us are. Instead, Ted decides that it would be great fun to stand directly in front of me, cutting me out of the circle and forcing me to stare at the back of his ugly head.
Slight #2:
Ted does that exact same thing. He comes and stands in such a way that focuses the attention in the group on him and forces me out.
There is no way that this could be accidental twice in a row. Even if he wasn't actively trying to offend me, he could not have behaved in such a way repeatedly without having no regard fro me as a person. He clearly believes that I don't deserve basic respect....not even the respect that one would afford a coworker, but the respect that you afford other human beings. Fucker.
Slight #3:
I am discussing with the other waitresses which chores I prefer to do if I have to be one of the two closers at the end of the night. I share that I prefer sweeping and mopping because even if the task as a whole is longer than the alternative (vacuuming) you can start while the last customers are still in the restaurant and thus have a chance of finishing ahead of the waiter who must vacuum.
Ted interrupts and says, "No you can't start sweeping and mopping while customers are still here." Excuse me?! You have never even closed before. You were hired last week. Why would you think that you know what I can or cannot do?!?! And if you think I'm wrong, why would you think that you can contradict me having just met me and knowing that I have worked at the restaurant 5 months longer than your sorry ass.
What a jerk off.
Slight # 4:
Ted fucking stands directly in front of my face one more time.
Why did I not say anything to him when he physically blocked me out three times? I don't know. I have given this much thought. And as far as I can remember I was embarrassed when it happened. I felt awkward that a new person could feel enough power over me to cut me out of a conversation with my coworkers, and that the coworkers didn't notice/mind at all. When I feel personally slighted I tend to experience hurt before anger. And I think that is why I did not directly address the problem that night.
But. I am very angry now. More angry than I have been at anybody in a long long time. And Ted has another thing coming if he thinks that he can disrespect me again without consequences. If he crosses me again, which I think is inevitable for a person of his level of intellect and morality, I will not only ensure that he is humiliated in front of the other restaurant staff, I will also fuck him up if he does not offer a genuine apology. I know you think that I will never actually confront him on a physical level and that I am just writing to make myself feel better. But, if I have to, I swear I will beat his ass. Just like the girl in the bar that gave him that black eye.
Good riddance. I hate that scrawny, worthless, fake, disresepctful motherfucker.
And if things continue everyone at work will find out that I am not the naive push-over that they assume that I am. I have been exceedingly polite since I started this job. I am polite to all the staff because everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. And whenever another staff member was rude to me I would just ignore them until the chaos passed (at the restaurant people are usually only rude when we are in a state of panic trying to feed two dining rooms full of Roland Park high rollers).
That being said, I am about to snap. There is a boy at work....let's call him Ted. Scrappy kid, that one. He got hired about two weeks ago. So, compared to me he is very very very new. And yet, he hasn't hesitated to blatantly disrespect me no less that four times. He's worse than fucking Judas! Well, aside from the fact that he didn't pretend to respect me in the first place.
First day on the job after three days of training he shows up with a black eye. Apparently he got into a bar fight when some "crazy chick" attacked him. He also is small and wiry and has a chipped tooth which I don't doubt that he got in a similar situation. His physical abnormalities, however, serve to endear him to most of the staff, and he accounts his misfortunes with hilarity. By his second day on the job he gained familiarity with some of the main waitresses, some of whom still don't seem to like me...hmph.
This brings us to Slight #1:
We are all standing in a haphazard semicircle around the waiters' booth at the back of the restaurant. He walks up. There are plenty of openings in the circle for him to stand and plenty walls and surfaces for him to lean on like the rest of us are. Instead, Ted decides that it would be great fun to stand directly in front of me, cutting me out of the circle and forcing me to stare at the back of his ugly head.
Slight #2:
Ted does that exact same thing. He comes and stands in such a way that focuses the attention in the group on him and forces me out.
There is no way that this could be accidental twice in a row. Even if he wasn't actively trying to offend me, he could not have behaved in such a way repeatedly without having no regard fro me as a person. He clearly believes that I don't deserve basic respect....not even the respect that one would afford a coworker, but the respect that you afford other human beings. Fucker.
Slight #3:
I am discussing with the other waitresses which chores I prefer to do if I have to be one of the two closers at the end of the night. I share that I prefer sweeping and mopping because even if the task as a whole is longer than the alternative (vacuuming) you can start while the last customers are still in the restaurant and thus have a chance of finishing ahead of the waiter who must vacuum.
Ted interrupts and says, "No you can't start sweeping and mopping while customers are still here." Excuse me?! You have never even closed before. You were hired last week. Why would you think that you know what I can or cannot do?!?! And if you think I'm wrong, why would you think that you can contradict me having just met me and knowing that I have worked at the restaurant 5 months longer than your sorry ass.
What a jerk off.
Slight # 4:
Ted fucking stands directly in front of my face one more time.
Why did I not say anything to him when he physically blocked me out three times? I don't know. I have given this much thought. And as far as I can remember I was embarrassed when it happened. I felt awkward that a new person could feel enough power over me to cut me out of a conversation with my coworkers, and that the coworkers didn't notice/mind at all. When I feel personally slighted I tend to experience hurt before anger. And I think that is why I did not directly address the problem that night.
But. I am very angry now. More angry than I have been at anybody in a long long time. And Ted has another thing coming if he thinks that he can disrespect me again without consequences. If he crosses me again, which I think is inevitable for a person of his level of intellect and morality, I will not only ensure that he is humiliated in front of the other restaurant staff, I will also fuck him up if he does not offer a genuine apology. I know you think that I will never actually confront him on a physical level and that I am just writing to make myself feel better. But, if I have to, I swear I will beat his ass. Just like the girl in the bar that gave him that black eye.
Good riddance. I hate that scrawny, worthless, fake, disresepctful motherfucker.
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