Work sucked tonight! It's not that the tips were awful or the night was extremely long. Work just sucked. It might be the allergies that have been kicking my ass have finally gotten to me. Sure, I thought on Monday...I could get through a day or two of feeling under the weather because the trees were furiously blooming, but now I'm just tired of feeling so non-functioning. And work sucked because of it.
I noticed right away that I was on the rampage. The slicer was a beast on tomatoes and onions, and the tomatoes were little so there were way too many of them to slice. I was behind after sparring with the slicing equipment and the hostess had people waiting in the hall so she wanted to open the doors early. To be totally honest, the issues at work have been escalating because of a few bad apples who are rotting the good apples' good attitudes. This alone makes work suck. Then again, in the spirit of honesty, I do love my job.
What do you get when you mix one part allergy with one part PMS and one part annoyance at the workplace? I'll tell you what you get. You get one crabby waitress. My first table needed time to look at the menu which was cool by me. However, when they were finally ready to order (and subsequently througout the meal), the woman felt compelled to explain every detail of why she needed to relay each message she gave me. Example: "I'd like it if you could bring us two more sour creams. I didn't get one [she said no when I asked if she wanted one in the ordering phase]and he shared some of his with me, but now we're out and I think we'd like a little extra in addition to the one I didn't get, so....if I could get two..." All she needed to say was, "Could you bring us two sour creams?" But nope. Everytime I dealt with her it was all about her snivelling. Whatever.
Shortly after that while I was ringing in an order at the POS (which is near our Friday night fish and chicken buffet), a woman leaned in and asked, "Will they be bringing out more chicken?" Boy howdy, I wanted to say, "I'm sorry! We've exceeded our alotted amount of Friday Night Chicken and it's only 6:15pm!" I could have added, "there's a lot of fish though, so dig in!" What possesses people to ask such stupid questions? Obviously, what she wanted to know was how long she would have to wait for more chicken. Why didn't she just ask that?
My night continued on the path of aggravation when my section cleared out simultaneously and my hostess brought me two 4-tops and a 2-top within minutes of each other. By the time I got to the third seated table and tried to greet them and introduce myself, the woman had a sour face and blurted, "We are ready to order." Her tone infuriated me. I guess she was under that customer assumption that us servers are in the back eating Bon-Bons, even though it appears that our twin is dashing to the bar for drinks and serving salads that were punched in and sent by some ghost of a server that they can't see. I held back a snarl and informed the woman in my most neutral tone that I was working as fast as I could, "whatwouldyoulike?"
I skipped the extra pleasantries with most of my tables. Honestly, I didn't smile all that much. And believe it or not, it had less to do with my grumpy mood and more to do with the chapped upper lip and nose area that I've developed because of the excessive nose-blowing that's gone on. As luck (or stupidity) would have it, I left one of about seven tubes of lip balm I have scattered in coat pockets and my purse, car, etc in the pocket of the coat I wore earlier today. I went to work without lip balm!!! Nary a soul had anything until the late busgirl came in and finally had some to share. I actually started smiling more after that, I'm pretty sure. I've used that stuff four times writing this, just to give you an idea of how naked I was at work without anything to moisten that dry upper lip. I thought I might die.
The night went pretty fast and I'm glad to be home. I'm still a tad jealous that my best work friend got the first table in my section after I was cut and they had tenderloin and lobster. I guess when you go in crabby, you better find a way to sigh and laugh it off by the time that happens to you. I took solace and joy in my after work cigarette, meal, and cocktail while the closing girls slaved away. I've got a lot of nights ahead of me this week. You bet your ass I'm basking in an early night off.
Did I remember to take Table #18's extra rolls to them? Eh, who cares?!
Friday, May 18, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Spider Returns
No, that's not a typo. I did mean "Spider Returns." Anyone who knows me knows that I'm pretty brash and bold, unafraid of hardly anything. Anything, that is, except spiders. I am the quintessential Little Miss Muffet. In other words, spiders scare the shit out of me.
My fear of spiders has actually decreased as I've gotten older, but I think that's only because I've had to be brave since I've lived alone a fair amount of my adult years. I've vowed to myself that I won't let a spider ruin my happy home. That being said, I have to admit to a few idiosyncratic tendencies. When I was little I put my shoes on and a big spider ran across my foot. Now I tap out my shoes before my feet enter them. Every time. Even in the winter. One time I took a shower and made the mistake of leaving my clothes on the floor and a spider was amongst them when I picked them up after my shower. Now, not only do I hang my clothes on a towel hook, I also shake out my towel before I dry myself after a shower. I've heard tales of spiders (and worse) in sleeping bags and beds, so I usually take a peek under the covers to see if there's any crawly things where I intend to lay down.
I have acquired some new habits recently. If I was not so scared of surfing pages where ugly, scary spiders pop in on my screen, I would search for the kind of spider that has made my home his home. Hell, we're not talking about one or two of these, I'm saying this sonofabitch brought every brother and lazy-assed ex father-in-law he ever had, plus every baby spider bearing female spider he could entice over with him. Damn! These things are appearing everywhere.
First I'd just see one or two skittering about on the ceiling while I was watching tv. This is okay, as long as they don't skitter above my head or over the furniture I'm sitting on. (You never know when they are going to lose that grip and have gravity beat them)! If one of them came down the wall far enough that I could get a clean shot with my "spider-killing shoe" then I'd run and get "the shoe" and kill the SOB. Really, not a big deal to kill a vagrant spider that is below shoulder level once in awhile. Do not expect me to hold my composure when I have "the shoe" in my hand and I'm on a chair trying to kill a spider on the ceiling. And don't ever give me shit because I can't take a whack at a spider on the wall that is above my head even though I can easily reach "the shoe" above my head and mark the wall with the spider's guts. I can't do it. And I won't even go into the inner hysterics I endure if the spider that's ruining my day is large and hairy. Suffice it to say that I will have trouble crawling into bed to sleep at the end of a day that involves a hairy spider. But I digress.
Like I said, the spiders that moved in were sporadically visible at first. Then (after the scouts came back unharmed I'm assuming), they started showing up everywhere! I'd open a cupboard and one would race up the inside of it. I'd take a bath and one would hover above me, ruining any chance of relaxation I was hoping to gain from my lavender bubbles. They'd appear from under the ledge of the counter while I was working in the kitchen. One morning I lifted the lid to pour water into the coffee maker and one darted around. I thought for sure coffee was going to be delayed while the scuba team tried to revive the kid, but his track abilities kicked in and he made a dash across the top of the machine and landed on the counter where I easily squashed him. Coffee was on time.
The spiders like to relax in the spot where the wall meets the ceiling, knowing damn well I can't get a shoe wedged in that space to take their lives. Except I did it anyway. A few got away shy a few legs, but I'm pretty sure they died or got smacked down later. (I'd like to think those ants that were attacking me last year might have had a hearty meal of him)! I had one of those spiders come flying out of the microwave one day. What in the hell happened to my little fairy tale house? These guys were threatening my existence here. I'd have a friend over for drinks after work, only to be mesmerized by the two dancing spiders having a prom all their own on the wall behind my chatty friend. "The shoe" came out, she sat still, and prom was over.
I went ballistic on these creepy crawlers about a week ago. I swept the whole house clear of spider webs and waited for the mad scramble. It worked. I think my best day was seven spider kills. I had gleaned the custom of scouring each room as I walked into it from the previous onslaught of spider bugaloo, so I was on double red high alert after the web-sweep. Finally, it seemed I had chased the few survivors to another abode. That is, until this morning when I went to feed my cats, and one popped up from under the ledge of the counter. I grabbed "the shoe" with a heavy heart and took him out without flinching.
I have one weapon left in my arsenal. It's a big jug of spider poison that will get sprayed around the outside of the house and in the corners inside the house. If they persist after that, I may get a holster made for "the shoe" and wear it to bed. I'm gonna change the last line of that nursery rhyme too:
Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet
Eating her curds and whey,
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her
So Miss Muffet blew him away
My fear of spiders has actually decreased as I've gotten older, but I think that's only because I've had to be brave since I've lived alone a fair amount of my adult years. I've vowed to myself that I won't let a spider ruin my happy home. That being said, I have to admit to a few idiosyncratic tendencies. When I was little I put my shoes on and a big spider ran across my foot. Now I tap out my shoes before my feet enter them. Every time. Even in the winter. One time I took a shower and made the mistake of leaving my clothes on the floor and a spider was amongst them when I picked them up after my shower. Now, not only do I hang my clothes on a towel hook, I also shake out my towel before I dry myself after a shower. I've heard tales of spiders (and worse) in sleeping bags and beds, so I usually take a peek under the covers to see if there's any crawly things where I intend to lay down.
I have acquired some new habits recently. If I was not so scared of surfing pages where ugly, scary spiders pop in on my screen, I would search for the kind of spider that has made my home his home. Hell, we're not talking about one or two of these, I'm saying this sonofabitch brought every brother and lazy-assed ex father-in-law he ever had, plus every baby spider bearing female spider he could entice over with him. Damn! These things are appearing everywhere.
First I'd just see one or two skittering about on the ceiling while I was watching tv. This is okay, as long as they don't skitter above my head or over the furniture I'm sitting on. (You never know when they are going to lose that grip and have gravity beat them)! If one of them came down the wall far enough that I could get a clean shot with my "spider-killing shoe" then I'd run and get "the shoe" and kill the SOB. Really, not a big deal to kill a vagrant spider that is below shoulder level once in awhile. Do not expect me to hold my composure when I have "the shoe" in my hand and I'm on a chair trying to kill a spider on the ceiling. And don't ever give me shit because I can't take a whack at a spider on the wall that is above my head even though I can easily reach "the shoe" above my head and mark the wall with the spider's guts. I can't do it. And I won't even go into the inner hysterics I endure if the spider that's ruining my day is large and hairy. Suffice it to say that I will have trouble crawling into bed to sleep at the end of a day that involves a hairy spider. But I digress.
Like I said, the spiders that moved in were sporadically visible at first. Then (after the scouts came back unharmed I'm assuming), they started showing up everywhere! I'd open a cupboard and one would race up the inside of it. I'd take a bath and one would hover above me, ruining any chance of relaxation I was hoping to gain from my lavender bubbles. They'd appear from under the ledge of the counter while I was working in the kitchen. One morning I lifted the lid to pour water into the coffee maker and one darted around. I thought for sure coffee was going to be delayed while the scuba team tried to revive the kid, but his track abilities kicked in and he made a dash across the top of the machine and landed on the counter where I easily squashed him. Coffee was on time.
The spiders like to relax in the spot where the wall meets the ceiling, knowing damn well I can't get a shoe wedged in that space to take their lives. Except I did it anyway. A few got away shy a few legs, but I'm pretty sure they died or got smacked down later. (I'd like to think those ants that were attacking me last year might have had a hearty meal of him)! I had one of those spiders come flying out of the microwave one day. What in the hell happened to my little fairy tale house? These guys were threatening my existence here. I'd have a friend over for drinks after work, only to be mesmerized by the two dancing spiders having a prom all their own on the wall behind my chatty friend. "The shoe" came out, she sat still, and prom was over.
I went ballistic on these creepy crawlers about a week ago. I swept the whole house clear of spider webs and waited for the mad scramble. It worked. I think my best day was seven spider kills. I had gleaned the custom of scouring each room as I walked into it from the previous onslaught of spider bugaloo, so I was on double red high alert after the web-sweep. Finally, it seemed I had chased the few survivors to another abode. That is, until this morning when I went to feed my cats, and one popped up from under the ledge of the counter. I grabbed "the shoe" with a heavy heart and took him out without flinching.
I have one weapon left in my arsenal. It's a big jug of spider poison that will get sprayed around the outside of the house and in the corners inside the house. If they persist after that, I may get a holster made for "the shoe" and wear it to bed. I'm gonna change the last line of that nursery rhyme too:
Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet
Eating her curds and whey,
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her
So Miss Muffet blew him away
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