We all have our bad days, and today is one of mine. I'm sorry that when I come to work 15 minutes early, it's not to jump on the floor and start taking tables. It's because I was soooo sick of my life outside of work, that coming here was the only other place to go and so I left for here earlier than usual. I'm just gonna sit out here in my fucking beat up ass hooptie and see how many cigarettes I can chain smoke in 15 minutes. It takes more than makeup to give me this hustle face I put on for your viewing pleasure. My cellophane smile is fueled by nicotine and redbulls.
Now, I know that you are used to the Fick in a lady suit who works so well with you all and is always so bright and cheery. Well today you are getting a good look at the real me. And even though I still flash this smile and bat my eyes trying to make my tips and am the picture of a super-ninja-jedi-perfectly polite waitress, somehow, there are a few of you who see through to the pissed off she-dragon lurking under this skin. I suppose of course this is because coworkers are like another family and regulars who just sit around watching me work all the time can tell the difference in my attitudes even when I'm fakin it to make it. I also have a very expressive face and so some of the shit I'm thinking and trying my best not to let come spewing out of my mouth like fire can be read there by those of you who know me or just happen to be looking. If you've read some of the earlier bitchings of mine, you'll know that I think a lot of shit that I cant say for need for gainful employment.
However it may be, you all fucking know when I'm having an off day; its like you smell it. Let me say thanks for noticing but don't fucking ask and do not assume and just give me advice on whatever problem it is that you think I have. I can't really tell you all the shit I got in my soul. And half the time, I don't even know what the fuck my problem is. I try to leave it in the hooptie with my cigarette butts and redbull cans. I try to come in and have the easiest shift I can run so that I have no hang ups getting the fuck out of here when its quitting time.
And it isn't always whatever I left at the door that sets my horns growing, half the time it's some bullshit going on here that has me just pissy. Maybe its you, dumb ass. Maybe you are the one I need to kick in the lips. I fucking work HARD. I fucking feed people for a living. I know you need a menu you bastard, can your fat ass finish sitting down first? Can I put this mother fucking water down before I pass it to you? God, if you were my kid I'd eyeball you so bad right now you'd put yourself in time out. If you just walked into my busy restaurant with only one waitress on duty (the fantabulous me of course, but I only got 2 arms), and you walk past all the clean tables to park your ass at a dirty god damned table, you are setting yourself up for me to instantly hate your guts. I have to now fit bussing said dirty table, while you sit there and put your elbows all in someone else's crumbs, into my already too long list of shit people need from me. You got your nerve pointing out the spot I missed with my towel or the shit on the floor. You picked this shitty table when all the ready to be waited on tables watched you pass them by. Don't complain its too wet now that I've fucking washed it like I was supposed to do!
Little old bitch, ya you. Might I have a word? If you bring your ass in my fucking restaurant and tell me you are in a hurry, you better fucking be strapped for time. After you ask me ten zillion and fuckin six questions about every thing on the menu and interrupt me eleven times while I'm trying to tell you the answers to eight of them, I wonder why your mama didn't take you for a ride down by the lake when you were little. Seriously, how the fuck did you get so old being such a fucking pain in the ass? I know you've got to be single huh. Who the fuck could stand you? You are stupidity in a bag of wrinkles. And when you are still at my table an hour later, now I'm taking it personal. You are lingering in my section. You are squatting. Your food is gone. You were in a rush and now you're not. You chased down the other waitress in another section to try and get your order taken because of the rush you were in and I came directly to get it like I'd tried to do 999 times already since you got here, and you turn to the people who are with you and say, " well have you decided yet?" lady, you're gonna get bit by a beast messing with me, I thought you was fucking ready!! You with all your questions: "well which soup do you like best?", "how old is the cheesecake?", "would you eat it?"; and all your shit "I'm such a poor old lifetime student, I can only leave you a buck for all your troubles", "I'm a struggling student." Lady, I hate you like I hate so few people in this world. You like fucking with me. I want to shake the shit out of you and look for a new job tomorrow. All the annoying ass people like you are sooo lucky that I have younglings at home who depend on me or I would snatch you up.
So in closing, let me again say thank you to everyone who gives a fuck if I'm ok or not. It means a lot to know you care and I appreciate all the shit you do to help me out when it gets assed out crazy in here and I need to smoke and pee. I'm proud of the teamwork we put out while on shift together slinging coffee and burgers to the masses. I'm glad to know that you all recognize what I do for you and and return the favors to me when you can. I'm glad that there are those of you ladies I work with who will take the really bad customers for me because you know how detrimental they are to this dragon temper of mine. I really do love you. Thankyou for always trying to cheer me up if I'm sad, calm me down if I'm pissed, help me out if I'm in the bushes, and cover my ass if I'm having a nic-fit. And all my regulars who I love too. Y'all don't all know me well, even if this is a bitty ass town, but you all think the best of me. That means a lot when I sometimes think so little of myself.