My last day at the restaurant will be Sunday June 6th.  It’s just not for me, for a few reasons. Ro has apologized over and over, which we end up laughing at, because the restaurant was not crazy until I got there.  At first I’d say I guess I just brought the crazy with me, but really – I think the gods and goddesses don’t want me to be a server.  There isn’t anything wrong with it (present restaurant experience excluded), I understand you can make good money at it but I’m really just not cut out for it.  It’s almost like I needed to experience to prove it to myself because saying it just wasn’t enough anymore.  I’ve gone to restaurants, many many times I watch how servers have to multi task from simple things, to crazy things, and they have to remember to much about each person and table.  If I see a server en route to something I’m scared to stop them because what if I ruin their train of thought, then they forget something, then they get yelled at by Mr. Grumpy-pants because they forgot to bring over a straw for his water.  What then?  No. No I’m definitely not cut out to be a server.  Thank you to all my friends who are servers, or had been at some point.  Your stories are true, and even though they didn’t save me from my own experience, I appreciate them and it makes me a better tipper when I go out to eat.

On a less-mean note, the past few times I’ve worked it has been easier.  Less tables help, but even then I can get confused and overwhelmed and know that I’m not moving fast enough.  But none the less, it was a bit easier.

In other news, after work last night Ro and I with a couple other co-workers went to have a couple drinks.  We went to the Lennox Lounge on …Lennox , hahah, and it was air conditioned which was great because even at 10pm it was 90 degrees out and humid.  Eew.  And i’m told it will only get worse, but I’m still gonna say eeeeeewwwww EVERY TIME.  So we went to Lennox and I had two strawberry margaritas, it was margarita night I had decided.  There was live jazz music and it smelled like cornbread.  Which seemed appropriate since every time a waitress/server walked by she was holding a plate of a piece of cornbread.  I looked at Andrew (co-worker, and we like him so he’s a friend too) and said if she walks by one more time I’m bogarting the cornbread off the plate and eating it like nothing happened.  Funny, she never walked by again with cornbread….  After Lennox we went to “Toast” a sort of…Diner and Bar.  I enjoyed a Danish burger with a caesar salad and another margarita.  Apparently it was named Danish burger because it was stuffed with blue cheese.  Go ahead and run with that one.  hahahah  Toast is located on 105th and Broadway, and at midnight it was still 90 and humid.  Although, down a couple blocks and across the street  is the “Restaurant” that Seinfeld always shows and I instantly thought of my dear friend Ethan (lives here in NY, known him for ….6..years?) because he was the first person to show the restaurant to me. I remember him sort of going “ta-da” almost when we had turned the corner once, while walking about, and I saw RESTAURANT all lit up in red neon and I went…”restaurant.” and looked at him like…what?  And he just responded with “Seinfeld?” and I said, oh…I ‘ve never watched it.  He forgave me, and since then, Yes – I have seen a few episodes.  So get off me.  =)

After Toast Andrew went home, drunk I think.  That’s fun most of the time, and he seemed like a happy drunk.  Tania, other co-worker headed home and Ro and I went to The Liar, or the full title of that bar is The Four Faced Liar, and Matt came out and met us there.  I had another margarita but couldn’t finish it.  I was really tipsy and wanted to go home and sleep.  But I hung out for a bit and then eventually said my goodbyes and headed to the train.  The C Train took me from West 4th, to 155th.  And I had my book with me, thanks to K for buying it and Nahnnah reminding me to take it with me always.

Tomorrow I get my hair colored for free.  HOW??? you say.  She’s a student and needs the practice and it’s just my roots (unless I go back to dark brown/black)  so, shrug.  I appreciated it when people came to my school, and it’s free.  And i’m poor.

Today I was not terribly productive but I did sweep a bit, and go the store for some food.  And toilet paper.  4 adults, and we went through 10 rolls of toilet paper in a week.  wow.

And, in news that maybe SHOCKING to some, I will be returning to the Green Apron.  Yes ladies and gents I re-applied and was re-hired to Sport The Green Apron and will be working in the Macy’s on 34th street.  There are 4 green aprons in the Macy’s so I don’t know which one I’ll be in, but I’ll be there none the less.  I’m sad I got rid of all 4 of my aprons, I’m sad I have to spend money to buy appropriate green apron attire, but I am glad I have a job that will be “easy” since it’s not super duper new to me, it’s familiarity will be a nice addition to the craziness that I am still trying to transition to, it will be a regular paycheck and providing I work enough hours; health insurance could be in my future.  Now even if I don’t get covered there, I can get covered through a program at school, but either way I’ll be able to get my eyes checked, among other important things I need coverage for.  So I’m happy about that.  Ro hopes I get a Macy’s discount – I don’t know yet if I do hahaha but we’ll see.  I start back with them on Tuesday, the woman who interviewed me had such a “typical” New York accent I almost started to talk like her, but I made myself pay attention to what I was doing.

I don’t know if I will also continue to seek out more work.  I would like to wait until school starts and get a feel for carrying the school and work load before taking on something supplemental, but I do need to eat and pay my rent so we shall see.

hmmmm this Ricola I’m sucking on has a first ingredient of Sugar listed, that’s no good.

OH YAH, Why do i suck on Ricola today you ask??? Because I have a cough.  I have HAD a cough since I moved here.  My allergies (which I’ve only had for a year) are adjusting and I’m getting new ones too.  So the new air, and pollen, and dirt, and dust, and car smog, and smoke – ugh…smoke, and cigars and laundromats and sewers and trees and …I don’t know , it all makes me cough.  I take Aller-tec, thank you Nahnnah, and it helps with other symptoms of my allergies, but the coughing is difficult.  And it hurts, and it’s constant.

And I need to be adjusted, BADLY.  My back is so achey.  My neck hurts, my lower back hurts when I walk, when I bend down to put stuff in the trash, when lay down, when I sit down, when I stand up – and yes….I’m sure this also has to do with my weight…thank you, but i DO need to get adjusted and hopefully by next weeks paycheck i’ll be able to do just that.

My room is coming together.  I have a queen size bed, and a desk and I have a calendar up.  I need some shelves for my DVD’s to get out of their boxes and I need to have some pictures printed so I can frame them and put ’em up.  I’d have someone send the ones I have but that’s too expensive right now.  I can just have some printed up.  I also got some prints from when K and I did our little lovey dovey portrait session.  That’s what I call it.  Our Lovey Doves session.  And I need to put a couple of those up too.  I like having pictures of people I love up so I can look at them whenever I want.

mmmmmm That’s it, OH and Financial Aid from Marymount keeps sending me a letter saying the only piece of information they need is a copy of any child support I received. I must have missed something. . .

When I was in elementary school we played games.  We played outdoor games and indoor games.  All of these games had rules.  Rules are what made the progression of the game functional, logical, and it gave us an end in site to aim for.  There was a beginning a middle and an end.  Sometimes you “win” and sometimes you “lose” but ultimately it should’ve been fun, you were with people you knew and liked and there was always a “next time”

Outdoor games like hopscotch, jump rope (including double dutch!), tether ball, catch, freeze tag, handball, dodge ball and more all came with rules and regulations to keep us, the players, safe, focused, excited and eager to keep playing.  In order for there to be, well…order everyone had to follow the rules.  If it’s your turn to jump rope, do it, when you’re done you take someones ends and take a turn spinning the rope for the next person in line.  The hard part of that rule was some people could last in the double dutch forever, yours truly included, and jumping for half the recess didn’t give others the chance they deserved, so eventually you were timed.  Freeze tag seemed easy enough, some one is “it” you ran around, if you got tagged you “froze” until someone on your team “unfroze” you by touching you.  This required speed, strategy and willingness to go after the same person over and over until all were frozen by you.  But again, there were flaws to these rules.  Some people are just too fast for you.  No matter how hard you try, no matter how high you set your sites, you’d eat their dust before freezing them.  So eventually we came up with “teams.”  And we tried to make it as even as possible in order for it to be fair and fun for everyone.  so superspeedy was chased by lightning legs, and the rest of us were chased by the rest of them.  Dodgeball was never my real favorite.  I never liked the idea of purposely going in the middle of a circle with no “exit” in site and the name of the game was don’t get hit by the people surrounding you.  It sounded like some thing a bully made up and for some reason one day a teacher during recess said “sure bully-bill, we’ll play your game.  It will be fun if we just set rules!”  So what are the rules.  same amount of people on the outside of the circle as there were in the middle.  As you got hit with the ball, a flaw in and of itself if you ask me, you left the middle of the circle and went to the outside of the circle and had somehow changed sides and strategies.  You no longer moved as fast as you could from the ball and getting hit, you were now asking for the ball and trying to hit someone.  You smiled and cackled with glee when you got them, forgetting instantly what it felt like when you were hit and that second of defeat covered in all those eyes staring was now, nothing.  There were “safety” rules that eventually were developed.  You can only hit the legs or arms.  If you hit the face you’re disqualified and can’t “play” anymore, the back though – that seemed to be free.  You could aim for it, and throw as hard as you could and you knew you had the upper hand because the person wasn’t looking.  Slowly as your team in the middle dwindled you’d realize how many people were somehow after you and all you could see was a blur of faces and mixed print while running from one side of the inner circle to the next, trying to literally dodge the ball.

sigh.  Well that was fun, I suppose.  As long as some amount of rules were in place and whoever was playing agreed to said rules, everything was played out as it should’ve been.

I remember what a big deal it was when someone cheated though.

But what of the rainy days?  The days when you played indoors because for one reason or another, the outside was unattainable or unavailable?  Well, we’d play indoor games I suppose.  Board games, card games, pictionary, or we’d get to choose an “indoor activity” that was appropriate, like color or write a story.  But we most certainly were not allowed to just sit there.  “Just sitting there” was a sign of having nothing or no one, and the teachers can’t have that.  Not when everyone should be involved in SOMETHING.  So…sure, I’ll play a board game.  I’ll follow the rules and roll the dice or spin the wheel and move my “man” the allotted number of spaces and claim what is rightfully mine as far as tokens, prizes, lollipops, ladders, pegs, people, or whatever was concerned.  I’ll do it until I’m finished.  And that was always good.  Sometimes even if you didn’t finish first it was important that you finished at all.  And card games?  Well, I don’t really play cards but I guess if you tell me the rules I’ll try.  So it was go-fish, or war, or old maid but after a while I don’t care what suit or color I have or if it matches or if you have more cards then me, and war is just silly we lay down more and more cards until ONE card that is higher in number wins everything? Who made up that rule?  And I digressed and moved on and would color one of the appropriate pictures of animals or smiling kids and I wouldn’t worry about the “correct” look of a human or cat.  If I wanted her to have a cat with purple squares as fir, then that’s what’s gonna happen.  And I was never put down for that, I was lifted up for my creativity and encouraged to color as I saw fit.  I appreciated that.  And you know something else?, sometimes I wouldn’t even stay in the lines, or i’d trace the outside pressing hard to make it darker and more apparent that there was in fact, a line that went…right…there.

Well, that was also fun, I suppose.  As long as everyone was doing something they wanted, following the rules of being inside and of the activities they were engrossed in, everyone was fine.

Then we all grew up.

Then I realized it’s the same thing.  The playground has changed, recess times have changed, friends have changed, but at the end of the day it’s the same…stupid…things.

Now the “games” have new names and some of the rules still exist and some have changed.  If you’re playing an “outside” game and you’re out to dinner, at a bar, or wandering about with your friends family or significant other – there are still those rules.  Sometimes it’s still like jumping rope.  Who ever is the most sober has to hold the ends and let the others hop about.  We laugh, we fall, we get tired, we switch places.  And unfortunately sometimes someone gets a longer turn.  A longer turn talking to the cutee at the bar that just bought the two of them a round of drinks, a longer time waiting for the others to finish their smoke,  a longer time waiting in line for the bathroom and a longer wait for their next turn during karaoke.  Then there’s people who don’t follow the rules because they kind of don’t apply to them.  They go to that bar every week, if not more so they can walk up and get whatever they need from the bartender without waiting.  I can walk in to the bar, go right up to my friend running the karaoke and let him know what I want to sing and he’ll move me to singing third so that I can sing once before shouting-sharon over there can sing for the third time . Maybe it’s all about who you know.

Like in freeze tag.  But sometimes you run and run after one person and find they really are just out of your reach.  And that can affect you more now in your twenties and thirties than it did when you weren’t even double-digits yet.  And I’m not about to agree to a team effort because if I’m going after someone *I* want to reap the benefits, if I send someone else that’s faster or “better” I could potentially, lose.  And when we’re playing these games, we’re trying to have fun and win – aren’t we?  Don’t we just want to win?  Aren’t we just playing..to win???!!  And furthermore so what if long-legs-lanora came to the bar with me, yah we’re friends but if you like tall thin blondes over tall-plus size-brunettes it’s not gonna matter how hard or fast I run, in the end I’ve already lost.  BUT WAIT.  If I’ve already lost, why do I play at all??  Because if I don’t get in and play, then I’m choosing to be left out.  And I can’t be that person.  I can’t be someone who chooses to opt out.  I want to aim for something too.  I want to strive too.  I want to win.  But I want her to play by the rules, and she probably wants me to play by the rules too.

hmmm.

But playing by the rules doesn’t always get you what you want.  Uh-Oh.  And who’s to say that just because I wasn’t fast enough to catch someone, doesn’t mean that my stamina is better than lenora over there.  I’m just saying…

And what of the words.  Them fightin’ words.  Or the teams that form automatically when everyone is after the same thing.  To win.  What about when our words and actions and re-actions become the ball everyone is trying to dodge.  What side of the circle should I be on then?  Can I be someone on the outside just laughing at the people on the inside.  Do I purposely throw as hard as I can to get them out of the running, and also – do I aim for their back?

As adults, our back is almost more sensitive then our center.  We get gut feelings, but if someone metaphorically “stabs us in the back” we revert immediately back to the rules of how that’s not appropriate, only to find that actually – no on said the back was off limits.  It’s a big space, and you can’t see anyone coming.  But, but how is that fair?  How is that following the rules, and my guess is…the rule on that is up to you to follow through on, which seems to end up being “don’t turn your back on them.”  I mean, sure they’re you’re friends, but when you’re in it to win and you have to choose a side you’re gonna find out who’s willing to stay in the middle with you and fight, or who’s gonna step to the outside because they can’t handle it in the middle.  What do we do when people we love are both on the outside of the circle, throwing shit at us, and people on the inside of the circle aren’t protecting us?  Is every man really for himself?  Can’t I depend on ANYONE to follow the rules??

So eventually I turn my back on them, knowing they’ll see me do so and they’ll take their chance to take-me-out.  And what I have to keep in mind is they didn’t earn that by playing by the rules, it just so happened I gave it to them, so I could be done with my turn in the circle.  Sometimes we win, by allowing defeat.

And we go home.  We go home happy, maybe drunk or typsy and maybe with someone we tagged at the bar.  And then you agree to the perhaps, and the mishaps of Adult Indoor Activities.  Board games become mind games.  And instead of relying on the dice we roll or the wheel we turn, we depend on the move they make on the chess board, and we try to anticipate their next move based on the move you make.  Card games become “poker” and I’m sure you can just take that as sexually as you like, but instead of looking for pairs and accepting the ones you get, you have to find the royalty, the reasons to “flush” the opponent.  And it’s not enough to just say you win, now you’re going to bring in money and materialisitc things to put a name and brand on your win.  Again, you just want to win – but what are you willing to lose now?  Have you given it enough thought? And who’s the guy dealing the cards out?  How are you supposed to take what you get, bet what you have, and trust the stranger “dealing” out your life?  Well, you’re not – that’s a gamble and the rules to that are simple.  Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose but you never know until you try.  So maybe everyone should play cards.  And here I am, still hating the idea because by now i’ve been tagged in the back, i’ve waited my turn, I’ve won and lost, but now my heart is on the table, because that’s all I have left to offer and if this complete stranger deals me a losing card, I could – quite possibly lose everything.

And then what?

Then I remember to not go in betting that high.  To have enough respect for myself to know what I could be losing.  I sober up and remember to be responsible and even though I’ve been subsequently tagged in the back, I should know better than to do it to others – so instead.  I sit quietly and draw.  I draw words by typing at approximately 70 words per minute and even through blurred teary vision I am to follow some kind of rule that states after all the bullshit I’ve already been through, I don’t have to go through anymore.

After realizing that rules can be set in stone, the stone may not possibly be able to carry the weight of the rules.  And the stone can be broken, erode, chip or shatter.

After realizing not everyone plays by the rules I am reminded how sometimes neither did I, and the rule on that is, to just be careful.  Whatever you do to others, will come back to you three-fold.  So, do good.  And move forward.

After learning that rules can be just guide lines I have to wonder and question what sort of end result am I seeking, if the guide lines I’m following keep leading me to tragic heart ache, illogical streams of thought, and worse – wanting to seek revenge. Why can’t forgiveness be a guide line?

I said, why can’t forgiveness be a guide line?

Because! Because if you just make it a rule that if someone tags you in the back and they say sorry, you forgive them then they didn’t really get what was coming to them.  And yes, I believe in that.  You do something shitty, something shitty will come back to you.  If you apologize for something, then you should not do it again.  If you know you are going to do it again, don’t say you’re sorry.  Because even though in elementary school when someone got hit too hard with the ball they were trying to dodge, or someone froze you before you even had a chance to make a run for it – and they apologize, chances are they will do it again if you give them the opportunity.

So what NOW???

So I don’t forgive you. But I will forgive myself for giving you the opportunity to ____.  And I’ll never give you the opportunity to do it again, and if I do it’s my own damn fault.  I should’ve known when you picked me last for the team you didn’t have faith in me to be fast enough for you.  I should’ve known when you said all the other relationships were easier, that you meant they never challenged you and if you’re afraid of a challenge then I’m not the adult you are going to want to start playing with.  I should’ve realized my turn jumping through your ropes was an extension of the obstacle to get to you, not a question of my stamina to handle you.  I should’ve remembered all the times you said sorry but still took my legs out from under me the way that red ball always used to.

I still remember what a big deal it is if you’re a cheater.

I should’ve realized the rules to follow this entire time, were mine.  And if I’m willing to break them for you, or be so caught up in you that I let you break them yourself that in it’s place you’d set new rules down, trapping me in your game.

But, one more thing I remember from the playground,  the moment you say “I win,” I say “lets play again,”  because, in life if there is no attempt at a “do over” then someone has explained the rules wrongly to you.  In order to grow, move forward , get chosen you have to try again.

And, MY rules after that, remain – to be determined.

Allow me to place a little perspective on this for you::::

I actually, am not, a server.  Never have been.  Now stay focused here, I’m talking about the Restaurant Industry.  There are several reasons I never agreed to work in the restaurant industry.  I have friends that have done it, I’ve heard their horror stories and warnings and they know me well enough to be able to look at me and go “yah, you wouldn’t like it.”  I’m too impatient, I WILL let people know “what is up” and contrary to popular belief, “no” I do not know how to describe food, just because I like it.  But again, lets seek out the perspective.

I’d like to first say that I’m writing this without anger.

First day of training was very easy.  This is the restaurant, this is a table, this the computer, this is the menu, this the kitchen, this is the kitchen staff, these are bowls, this is where dished get washed, these are stairs.  Stairs lead us down to the locker rooms, dessert baking…area, dry food storage and office area.

Day two of training, watch.  No I’m totally serious.  It was a friday night.   “salsa night” actually so the tables were cleared from the center, people were EVERYWHERE, no one was under 45, the music was loud and constant, the servers took food drinks and beverage and cocktail drinks and some times the runners even found the table it was supposed to go to. I was told “this isn’t normal” because the tables weren’t set up right, most of the people weren’t there for “normal” dinner they were there to drink a little and dance.  But I stood, none the less – and watched.  For 7 hours.

Day One, on the floor.  Saturday.  A fraternity and their moms, or something like that bought out the place.  Tickets were pre sold, and food was included.  They had a limited menu of appetizers, entrees and a desserts.  Each person got one of each.  Drinks were not included, so in the event someone wanted to order something to drink, I would take their order, put it in the computer, then go to the bartender and get it from them.  As a server, I am in charge of the beverages for my table(s).  We have “water” guys, we have “food runners” to take the food to the table, and “bussers” to clear the table.  However, I was told this, also, was not “normal”  It was a limited menu, the tables were not in the normal places and all servers helped run food with runners and helped buss and fill water and get drinks.  I had 3 tables of 8 people each.  I didn’t do that great, not gonna lie.  If I took a drink order from a table I needed to go put all the drinks in to the computer then get them, before heading to another table.  I just didn’t have the rhythm or organization skills yet for this particular line of work so I was slow and careful.  This also marked the first day in my life I’d ever carried a tray. . . Now, the drink trays are one thing.  The size of dinner plates with a 4 glasses of ice tea is not NEARLY as intimidating as a large, brown, oval shaped stray that has 5-7 plates on it.  And I’m right handed so i thought I’d do better holding it with my right hand – but then…how do I grab the little tray stand thing that I put the tray on?? Help??  After a couple tries i learned I’m better holding the tray with my left hand and using my shoulder to balance it and grab the tray holder thing with my right hand.  Now once I get out to the table, I have to open the tray holder and set…the..tray…down – pause.  I can do this.  I used to do balancing kicks, I can put the make up on the left side of my face, with my left hand all I have to do is carry this tray, not hit anyone, not drop it on anyones head then set it down on the stand.  Again – I worked slow and carefully and no..I didn’t drop it once.  Thank you.  But now that I’ve set it down at the table that isn’t mine – because, again, we are all helping “run” food I have to read the ticket that states the table number and seat number of the person and take them their food.  But, I’ve never seen this food – so I don’t know what I’m looking for or at.  Eventually though I did learn that the salad was the vegetable leafy thing, the chicken was in the round bowl, and the short ribs had the BBQ sauce on them.  It didn’t mean in the dark, over heated restaurant with 150 people hungry and looking for a person with a black apron to help them…that I was able to read it and successfully deliver.  Well, eventually I did.

Day two, on the Floor.  It’s Sunday, Happy Mothers Day.  We have three (3) “rounds” of Buffets coming in.  Heh?? So…we have a buffet (points to tables with all the food on it), and we have people that made reservations during the three slots of time we were offering.  So they could either come in..like…12-2, or 2-4 or 4-6.  Something like that.  This should be easy.  Because I don’t need to take food orders.  I just need to take drink orders and help clear.  “This is not normal” the tables are not in the normal spots because we had to move them for the buffet tables.  Sigh and wonder if I’ll ever “see” normal.  But I have a “section” now.  “that” section.  with tables 6,7,8,9, 10, 25a, 25b, 25 c (Yah…you read that correctly, we’ll get to that) and those tables over THERE 23, 24, 34.  Just make sure they have drinks.  Buffet came with one complimentary soft drink, each additional drink would be charged, and of course – there IS the bar so they can drink-drink  (you know by now that writing the word twice makes it a bigger deal).  However!  I also, NOW get to enter food into the computer.  Granted it is a “buffet brunch” button, but I get to hit it with the drinks.  Oh good.  Which means NOW i’m also giving people their tickets, or bills, or checks – whatever you want to call them, take their money and send them on their way.  If they pay in cash, the bartender has to close the ticket – she is the only one with a drawer.  If they use a card I can swipe it. weeeee, and print it, weeee, and put it in a cute black soft cushy holder thingy and “present” it to them.

Now lets visit “table 25.”  The system has no other numbered tables on that side.  They are literally somewhere else, and someone else is ringing on them.  ok, so I have to have 3 tabs for one table and make sure i close them to the right people and charge the right drinks.  I can’t tell you how fun it was to learn that, after all “it’s not normal” to have 1 table actually be 3 tables.  That’s just silly.

Sunday Night – Ha Haaaa!. You thought I was DONE with sunday. You are wrong!!  I survive all three “rounds” of the buffet and we clear the buffet table, and move the tables a bit to their “normal” areas for tonight.  Mothers day, was my first double.  Member when i said there were things about the restaurant industry that made me know I didn’t want to work in it?  Yes, working a “double” is one of them.  Oh, and I didn’t take a break.  We don’t get those.  We can “break” during our “downtime”, which of course would only happen…during …”normal days.”

SO, sunday night.  Let me see if I can draw this picture for you. The entertainment is live singers.  They are loud and powerful.  We are down 1 or perhaps 2 servers, so I have taken on more tables than anyone would like.  I have 10 tables.  Mostly 4-6 people at them, a few with 3 or 4.  All of them want food and drinks.  And THIS is my FIRST time using the menu, and actually punching food into the computer while getting drinks.  Some people waited 45 minutes to see me.  That’s just not okay.  I tried, I really really REALLY did.  I just couldn’t go fast enough.  And people wanted me to explain the menu and quite frankly I don’t know what it tastes like “i’m new” which to some people was forgivable and to others was a mortal sin.

I’d like to take this time to tell you that this particular night was when the Gospel Uptown Singers were performing and the majority, if not all of the people there were yellin’ their praises to Jesus and Halleluiah’s.

I’d like to also take this time to say a customer followed me into the kitchen and grabbed my shoulder, startling me and proceeded to attempt to rip-me-a-new-one. “you said you were going to come RIGHT BACK that was FIFTEEN minutes ago.  ALL I wanted was a dessert menu!”  Sir, lets go out of the kitchen first of all.  (then I said) I placed the dessert menu in front of you on the table.  “But you didn’t TELL ME it was there, I’d been WAITING”  Sir, you were watching the show so I set it down on the table for you, I’m sorry if you wanted me to hand it to you directly. “I don’t need your attitude, I need your manager”  Just then a short petite woman in a satiny short red dress and matching heels came “to help”….?  She asked him what was wrong, and she completely ignored me as a person or server at the restaurant.  He asked who she was and she said “I’m one of the producers for the entertainment tonight”…to which the disgruntled and very pissed off gentleman replied with…well – repeating everything he just told me.  Once he got to the dessert menu bit again, I reached in front of her, pretty much making her move and saying “you’re not helping, go away” with my body language – which she did, and I handed him another dessert menu and said “sir.  The only thing I can do is tell you I’m sorry I didn’t hand the menu directly to you, and take your order NOW and put it into the computer NOW”  He snatches the dessert menu from me and looks up at what I’m talking about.  “I’m gonna tell you what I want and your’e gonna put it in THAT (points to it) computer?! Right?”  Correct, sir (and no, not once with sarcasm…can you believe it?) He tells me what he wants and because I have little faith in myself that I will make it through the night I tap him in his shoulder as he turned it from me and I said ….”and in my defense sir, this is my first night working with the menu, and the computer, and actually having tables”  He smiled, politely.  Nodded and said “ok” and went to his seat.  He was very pleasant the rest of the night.

Other people, however, were not.  I don’t know what was worse.  Having him follow me into the kitchen yelling for my manager, or feeling my pants being pulled when someone I walked by “needed me”  And I’d like to take this time to say the pants I bought are too big, but i NEEDED black pants, so them tugging, nearly pants’d  me, and not once or twice – but thrice.  Eventually everyone got their appetizers, and drinks, and entrees and desserts and just then Ro turned the corner and asked me how I was doing.  I said nothing as I lifted my glass with a shaky hand and drank my water.  I said nothing for three glasses of water.  She apologized over and over.  Telling me “it’s not normally like this” we are short a server, they don’t normally order this much food sunday nights, so I thought it would be easier and it’s just…not”  She also said I could leave and she would take over my tables to which I tilted my head back and smiled in defeat and walked to the bathroom, to cry.  It was such…a long…weekend….I came back after a few minutes and she appeared again later and asked what she could do and I told her she was not allowed to send me home.  That I knew I was being defeated but all I had to do was give people their checks and get them to pay, then I’d be done.  I will have survived.

So I did.  And when they left, I did my closing with Ro and came home.

Two days later Ro came home and told me the entire kitchen staff was let go and she made cookies and I began to look for another job.  They were not let go because they were bad, they apparently were let go because they were too expensive.  Yikes.

So then we have a new chef.  And I go into work a couple days later and a assigned to help with one of the private parties.  All the ladies are happy, and peppy and I’m able to get their drinks in the computer to them.  They have a limited menu – I’VE DONE THIS BEFORE.  So I do what I know and we wait.  We all freagin’ waited.  The kitchen staff that used to be of 6, was a)new and b) only two of them.  Salads went out after 30 minutes.  SALADS.  Entrees another 30-40 minutes after that AND…they were cold.  Swear. Word.  And some of them, never come out – why you ask because apparently…they had run out and didn’t tell me until it was too late.  So I take me dominant behavior hat and put it on even though it clashes with my apron and walk into the kitchen.  “I need two roasted chickens”  We don’t have it ready, give them fried chicken.  He says.  To which I reply  “It’s on the limited menu YOU put out, they ordered an hour and half ago, I’m going to the bar to get more drinks from them I need 2 ROASTED CHICKENS when I come back, please and thank you.” And the answer I got?  “ok”.  The irony is about to come into play.  I go get their drinks and bring them back.  I’m heading back to the kitchen and am stopped with a sentence that went something like this (hand holding on to my arm)  we’ll take whatever is ready, we’re just hungry! I heard they have fried chicken – we’ll take it!”  ( I laugh, and cry on the inside) and head back to the kitchen I tell them they are in luck because the ladies are fine with fried chicken “well I’m roasting this now, so they’ll have to wait”  A sharp stare leaves my eyes like darts.  No words.  He just gets a plate, puts the sides on, and the fried chicken he had just made.  I take it both plates and say thank you.   I continue to let them know everything I know and do what I can.  In the end, they talked to the manager a few times, got a discount and said *I* was the only thing that saved their luncheon.  Awwww

Then it was sunday night again.

Sigh.

But it was easier.  I had my tables.  The food and drinks went into the computer.  The runners took the food, I took the drinks, I closed the checks and I survived.

And today, today I had another double.  I don’t recommend it.  And today we had (another) new chef.  We’ll see where everything goes.

And I still don’t think I’m designed for the Restaurant Industry, to which my roommate Matt has said “if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere” and I say…hahaha oh Matt, we love that song and stops and goes “no, if you can make it at this restaurant, you can work anywhere in New York.”  We both laugh. I still have prrreeeetttyyy set feelings and opinions of this line of work and ME.  But I guess we’ll see.  I’m trying to make sure I allow myself the opportunity to learn something new, even if its carrying a tray, and I don’t do just what I know.  It’s good to step out of my comfort zone – but seriously if I get followed into the kitchen again I’m escorting that person out, and the next person who tugs on my pants gets stuff “spilled” on them.  Even if it means going to the bar, getting water, and coming back to say “don’t tug on my pants cause then I spill like this”…..

well, you know – maybe.  We’ll see how I do when it’s um….”normal.”

My friend Daaaaaaannnnaa was in town today.

She actually flew in early yesterday morning to see her brother and his family.  He too lives in Washington Heights so we were able to set a time for us today to get together and play.  I haven’t seen her in about a year.  After going to bed at 5am and setting my alarm for 10:30am I woke up and took a shower and flat ironed my hair, just for you Daaaannaa! hahah  She sent me EXCELLENT directions and I left the house at 12noon for my first outing all by myself!  I took the 1-Train and transferred to the A-train.  Which was not an easy task for a first timer.  If I didn’t have such great directions I would’ve got lost for sure.  After getting off the 1-train I had to go up stairs down a hall into an elevator then down another hall and over a platform for the A-train.  It was a labyrinth, at least it felt like one.  But I got to my train, I exited on the right stop and walked the correct blocks and turned down the right streets and found where she was just fine.

We walked.  up.  some. stairs.  GOOD LORD hahaha and went to a cute little restaurant and got some food.

I ordered an omelet with onion, tomato, bacon, mushrooms and cheddar chez.  She got a burger and I don’t remember actually seeing it, show either devoured it, or I was too engrossed in telling my story, or maybe both scenarios are true!  We finished up our food and walked around a bit, found a starbucks and got a

drink and walked over to a little park.

I have found that a “park” in NY is a piece of some small land that is fenced off with benches.  So, we found a park and sat and enjoyed our beverages.  We talked about family, men, school – everything!  And the birds were also very intrigued with our conversations.  They kept getting closer and closer and at one point a bird flew between our faces while we were talking to each other.  And, guilty – we both screamed a bit.  We were both so startled!  And then laughter ensued.  Cute little bird,  scared the b’GEEZUS out of us.  HAHAHAHAHA

We walked around a bit more, she took me to the post office, I needed to get some stuff! and we walked back to her brothers apartment.  All in all we spent about 3 1/2 hours together catching up and it was GREAT.  She looks AMAZING, she sounds great AND she lives in Florida still, which means we are on the same time zone and more importantly I can get on a plane for cheap and go visit, and we are going to go to D

isney World!  I don’t know when, hopefully this Fall!  And by then I believe The Guttersons will be in Florida,

I don’t know where but if it’s anywhere in the vicinity I could possibly get to the see them, and Baby Sam as well!!

So I hugged Daaannaa bye and headed back to the subway.

It’s interesting how different some of the um…tracks?  halls?  ceilings? …look.  Some of them look like once upon a time they may have actually been quite beautiful.  Shrug.  So I got back home safe, ALL BY MY SELF.  Ro congratulated me and Antoan gave me a small applause and I felt accomplished a bit.  I of course don’t know my way around EVERYWHERE, but it’s nice to know I was able to follow simple directions even though I didn’t really understand them. . .

And if all goes well tomorrow, I will have an actual bed vs a futon mattress on the floor.  I’m lucky enough to have this so far, but I will be more happy when I have an actual bed.

AND, K found me an Indian restaurant near by to try and it hit the spot in my tummy.  I had to walk a about 12 or 13 blocks but it was good for $9.07  and I’m sure I’ll visit them again.  AND if I ever feel REALLY lazy I can take the train and it drops me off right near the place. muuahahaha.  Thanks Honey!  You take such good care of me, even from far away.

“It was real, it wasn’t realistic” – Aiyani

“Work smart, not hard” – My Wifey

I don’t know if it’s that I haven’t fully adjusted to the time change yet, or if the hard futon on the floor bit, or if I have SO much on my mind.  But I cannot go to sleep at a decent hour.  It is now…4:45am here in NY and I’m AWAKE.   My alarm will go off at 10am to wake me to hang out with Daaaannaa.  Yes, some of you are jealous.  Daaaaaanaa,  “short” for Dana…moved to Florida from CA, where I met her.  We have been good friends for a few years and she has family here in NY she was visiting and *I* get to have coffee and catch up with her tomorrow, well – in a few hours from now.  So I need to try to sleep.

It’s terrible thinking Antoan is going to get up soon for work.  It’s mean that I want to call my lovey and say “I’M AWAKE”, no I take that back – it would be mean if I did that, not just thought it.  But he works very hard and has terribly long days, and I love him and want him to have his rest, therefore I will not wake him up.  I also could call any of my friends in CA and say the same thing, but again…I love my friends too and want them to have their rest.

I moved to wordpress.com

Big move.  All of my LJ got imported and I can do more stuff here.  Which I will eventually get to.

Ugh.  I need to go lay down.