Tuesday, May 12, 2009

MAYbe the Problem is ME

fuck work..
fuck you'whore..

because i want you to stop fucking me....

i'm writing this blog after getting home from work tonight, after chilling out to some rolling stones...this post could have been a lot angrier, but now it will slightly be subdued.

i used to believe in some sort of karma-esque force in the world, but believing in that shit would be like believing in a god - leaving you with the same fucking questions as any other organized religion before...why do good things happen to bad people and vice versa..why is this happening to me..etc. they say that god gives us only what we are able to handle, oh yeah, then why do people kill themselves...isn't it because they couldn't handle something in their lives; stress, a breakup, family problems, whatever - yeah, great programming there...i guess computers are a lot like people...they are programmed to do things and, i'm sure you've all had this happen before...you go to open a program, or try to do something and you get the "blue screen of death" - yeah, that's the computer not being able to handle what it should be able to and kills itself...sound familiar god?

at work i try to have a very positive demeanor about myself...i put in my 6 to 8 hours, or however how long, and i go home...i don't bring home-problems into work, and i make everyone laugh..i bust my ass..what more could be asked.....well, lately, this has not been the case....i walked in tonight and on of my associates, sean, came up to me with a big smile on his face..they talked about attitudes in pre-shift today, though i missed that because i came in at 530..so sean tells me attitudes must be getting on edge lately because even though he snaps once a week, he has never heard me raise my voice in anger or seen me in a fit of rage since he's worked there....now sean is the guy who i have had some good times with at work, even the time we had no covers from 630am til noon was still one of the best shifts worked. sean made a comment that he was gonna start wearing a shirt that said, "i'm a witness" as in he was a witness to the jangus being pissed off, lol.

i was in a decent mood tonight, i was a closer but right from the start i questioned the floor mapping. the other closer was apart of a cocktail party - not much work to be done on it, but an easy fifty bucks in the pocket...but after that she got an 8 top in a private dining room...this on a night when everyone has an 8, or 9..except me...what do i get, all the walk-ins, because other than those large parties, there's nothing left...i made the comment to my manager, the one who has watched me get fucked in the ass for the past four days, manager scott, why does no talent clown get two parties..shouldn't she get the cocktail party to start her night off with fifty bucks then take in all the walk-ins and give me, the other closer, that eight top? i got shushed..yes, i was told to stop bitching. so i walked away.

oh, did you get the part where i was closing with the no talent clown, the same person i have been having problems with for the past three days, yeah, the hits keep on coming...i do shrug that off, even if that 8 top spent more money than two times all my tables combined...but what sent me over the edge was when i had an employee come in on a date and i took care of her....i did all the little special things and such, when the discounted bill came, the male date paid, and tipped, and the co-worker ellen, never checked...when i first saw the tip i was all like, mother fuck...and kinda went on my way...but then as i rang it into the computer, it took me a minute..i wasn't able to distinguish the second number and a bartender looked over my shoulder at the paper
"man, you're doing it wrong"
"that's shitty, what the fuck was wrong with that table?"
"that was ellen's table"
"shut the fuck up, are you serious?!"
"yeah, dead serious"
"ohhh my god"
i inputted the tip into the computer screen and ran my checkout. i grab manager scott so he could cash me out and he told me to meet him at the office...i got back there, sat and waited for a bit, then completely changed out of my uniform all the while calculating what percentage the tip was - for some reason we servers love to use the percentage system..if it ain't 20, it better be more...i figure it out and explode, who the fuck tips 12% on a discounted bill?! by the time he got back there he saw me and questioned what was going on, wasn't i the closer..i said yeah, but i don't care, i'm done, i did enough, no talent clown can finish up whenever her table leaves, we are closed. he starts getting shitty with me and i hand him my credit card receipts with ellen's on top and make the motion for him to look. as he grabs the paperwork he utters that he doesn't care and that's the last thing i can fully remember him saying, it was at that point i got the pucker face, my lips trying to crush one-another, started nodding, said "ok" throwing my arms above my head and pulling on my hair, and walked out the backdoor...through the roundabout hallway and out the receiving doors onto the dock where i planted myself

even though i recall manager scott saying, "really" and "goodbye" he chased after me outside. nothing pisses him off more than a shitty attitude, and every night we have worked together i've gotten fucked without lube, and inturn have had a shitty attitude. we talk, there's no way to resolve anything...asking someone to come in with a positive attitude day after day after being fucked by the co-workers, the management, the patrons day after day, without any drugs or alcohol is like asking gary to stop being a flirtatious retard with no direction (i stole it, it's mine now)..it just ain't happening...

after a bit we go back inside, he cashes me out and sends me home, leaving the no talent clown to finish the rest up - that's her karma kicking in...kinda....i just want to know what the fuck..ok, yes i have been making good money lately (with the exception of tonight, the streak finally ended) but i have been paying out the ass for it...the managers can't keep putting me on the parties or other people will get pissed, granted there's always been a group who always get on every party and get what they want...doing that would disturb the balance of things...

it's that time, the clock is ticking down closer and closer to that final moment and i did something stupid, it's worthy of another blog...maybe i'll tell you in, oh, three days?

"twelve percent...on a bill you already got twenty-five percent off..what the fuck?!#@!"


Cynthia said...

You really need to get away from that place!

Come to Ohio!! There are none of those restaurants in sight! lol.

Anonymous said...

I hate that shit...I normally tip whatever my discount was, and if I liked the server, then they might get 30% instead of 25%