This night I speak of is Sunday night. I spent all day and night cleaning and doing laundry and drank a bottle of pinot grigio and told my sister that some of her pictures look entirely too lolita for my taste. I did fail to mention the part that she does have a couple pics that make her look fabulous. She'll read this and then I wont have to be all gushy for several more months.
In this weird night, I also had to retire my favorite work pants, my black tuxedo pants. The fit. The stripes on the side. The wide pant legs that I adored. I really tried to save them. In my drunken state, I went on a sewing spree and sewed all of my hems on my pants, buttons on shirts, the very hole-y robe that rips at seams under arms after every year or so. ALL FIXED WHILE IN DRUNKEN STATE. The lovely work pants had a busted zipper and I Decided that I Would SEW BUTTONS (HEE!!! RACHEL!!!!) on the inside of the panel where the zipper lies. And it was lovely. Not too botched. But then I tried them on, and the broken zipper was still able to be seen. No more underwear peaking out, but still it looked as though my zipper was down. Sniff sniff. We'll see if I have enough patience to rip the entire zipper out. Maybe even put a new one in. Hm. Maybe not.
My brother turns 23 tomorrow (today). Baby Brother is growing up! I'm just honestly content that he has had a job for the longest time now and that the girl I didn't like is not in his life anymore.
Another slapstick has ran away from the BS! :) YAYYYYYYYYY to my new bride who with her hubby's health insurance, she's able to run away!!!! I knew marrying him was a good idea! Hehe.
Speaking of slapstick related crap. My boss is having a fiesta at his house and has deemed it a party for all eggs. I looked at the announcement and have all but decided that I would not go. I'm scarred still from the yearly "picnic" where all were forced to have fun. Jamie? Why aren't you playing games after our 4 hour lecture on how the company can be better, why you're a bad employee and why all of the "traveling sales people" hate the office people???? And why are you in such a rush to get away from your coworkers on the friday afternoon before a three day weekend? MEH. FUCKING HELL. I'm scarred. I still get the heeby-jeebies when I have to see people outside of work that aren't in my loose circle of friends. (Hehe. I don't mean I have loose friends, I just mean I have a lot of them that aren't very close, but I still adore them and don't mind seeing them outside of work). The boss knows my beef with the office that gave me a rotten orange when I left, and he has told me I can just come and drink beer and pet his dog. Uhhhh. His canine companion. Happy Bunny would have me go and be her date. I think it's because she really does love social corporate events and if I'm not there, she will be crushed by my anti-socialness and won't be able to face the Bad Eggs. We'll see. She knows I'm easily influenced.
More eggy news: Saturday afternoon I had the most condescending bunch of assholes ever. It ruined my afternoon. Table of 6 older (60-70 yo) couples sit outside and order beer and such. Not big spenders, but $100 for 6 people is a $16 ppa (per person average) and our restaurant's servers average about $13 pp, so it's not bad at all. As the table is finishing, I refill waters and ask if anyone would like me to take their plates out of their way. Everyone ignores me, except for Icky Woman, who says, "don't clear the table until EVERYONE is done" (as her husband goes to hand me his plate, I walk away). 10 mins or so later, when she's ready for me to clear everyones' plates, she nods to me. "Was everyone finished?", I confirm. Clear plates. They're amazed at my table clearing abilities (le sigh) and Mr, Icky at end of table nearest to me says: "You're a very good server. Did you go to school for that?" (EXHALE JAMIE BEFORE YOU DIE) Jamie: "Noo..." Mr. Icky: "Oh well you're so efficient, did your mother teach you how to be such a good waitress?". Jamie: "Not hardly" and walk away I did before I threw up on his nasty expensive shoes. I was enraged. They tipped 20%, but how I wish I could have stuck up for myself. I take pride in the fact that I am an excellent service provider. I will give you the biggest smile, I will help my neighbors, and I will express concern if anything is wrong. But I Would have given ANYTHING in the world at that moment to return the dirty money that put me in my place.
And then I watched my favorite movie, and as always, I took something from it. Will I ever confront a bad tipper or a condescending asshole who has never HAD to work in customer service? No. That would be rude, and I am beyond that. I serve, I am not a servant.
From Life is Beautiful:
Think of a sunflower, they bow to the sun. But if you see some that are bowed too far down, it means they're dead. You're here serving, you're not a servant. Serving is the supreme art. God is the first of servants. God serves men, but he's not a servant to men.
