Monday, November 5, 2012

my weekend as a waitress (aka every weekend)

What a weekend.

Friday, the day after I applied at Starbucks, as expected, was a fun day at work. This always happens. When I start to make a move to leave, I have a good day that has me second-guessing my decision to leave in the first place.

Don't worry, one good day isn't making me change my mind. I realize that one good day doesn't just erase 47 bad ones. I know that is has been over three and a half years since I started working here, and that regardless, it is time for a bit of a change. In fact, I'm starting to crave change (which is why I think I won't get the job anyhow. Ha), and the idea of starting fresh with a new job and a real(er) paycheck makes me a little giddy.

Anyway, while it was fun, it was also pretty hellish. I guess what I mean when I say "fun" was, it was fun during the day, and then at night there wasn't ever a point where I was tumbling head first into a portal of bad mood desperately grasping at every chance to leave that came my miserable way. Know what I mean?

Which says a lot. For several reasons.

a. One of our waitresses didn't show up. We usually strive for four servers on a Friday night. I figured, since I was first off, with four waitresses on and no parties or bands that night, I would be out pretty early. Well that hope was dashed early when server number three didn't show up, and then reminded me that she had a wedding to attend that night that I completely forgot about. Which, fine with me. I told her it was fine two weeks earlier when she saw she was on the schedule. So I figured, "whatever", because there were still three on, and I assumed I would be out early enough either way.

b. "The Cougar" was working. This was probably the biggest issue of the night. Or, well, day I guess. I don't know if you remember the cougar, but if not, she is the 32-year-old dating my 22-year-old brother. Luckily, she was bartending, so I didn't have to work too closely with her, but still. I know this sounds dramatic, but it took a lot of "mental prep" for me to finally accept it. What a loser, right? But anyway, by about 4:45 I had decided that I had to be the bigger person, and mustered a very painful smile when she walked in. Well, no eye contact whatsoever from her. Which, works for me. I was the bigger person, and the ball was in her court now. Then our resident drama queen (which, shockingly is not me) told me that Cougar was scared of me. Which is laughable since I am 5' of all talk. Really. My bark is worse than my bite. But, because my conscience also kicks my ass on a daily basis, I didn't mind not liking her, but it bothered me that she knew it. So I would randomly make some "I'm trying to make nice, just work with me" comments and by the end of the night we ended on a somewhat awkwardly cordial note. Well, better than nothing, right?

c. As if all that wasn't enough... resident drama queen who had semi recently just finished another alcohol detox received a phone call from her doctor telling her she had to go to the emergency room because a pancreatic ulcer of her's had ruptured. Well after freaking out and crying, she refused to go to the hospital. I can't figure her out. In one breath she is talking about how this place isn't her life, and that her health "has to come first", and then in the next she is refusing to go to the hospital, against her doctor's recommendations. So, hey, if she wasn't worried about her life, I wasn't going to. Ultimately she stuck out the night. I thought it was interesting that someone who dramatically limps like her leg is in need of amputation after working a double shift on St. Patrick's day was handling a permeated pancreatic ulcer like it was a mere paper cut. But hey, who am I to judge the validity of her claims?

All in all, I got out around 9:45-10. A wee bit later than I had planned, but I guess the money was almost enough to make it worth it.

Oh. And on Sunday there was an almost bar fight over a pizza. It ended with one of our regulars throwing a $20 at the guy and calling him a "little bitch" because he was yelling at one of our bartenders over a crappy pizza that he proceeds to order and bitch about every week. It was pretty funny. I know the guy was shitting bricks when Regular got up. He's a big dude. And any guy who takes being called a douche and a little bitch? Yeah, he won't be throwing any punches.

Oh the drama. And the need for a reality show. Dammit.

Still looking to GTFO though. Dear Starbucks.... please give this tired tired waitress a chance.

How were your weekends?