Art Walk

So it’s one of those nights where you make a string of tickets long enough to wrap around your waste to look over at the printer to see that now you can keep Manuel Uribe Garza’s pants up. Some pompous dick in front of me asks if I went to school for chemistry (thinking that it takes a chemist to make a grapefruit cosmo) and I answer no - international business. He then keeps hinting at if I want to work for him in his start-up software company, to which I think, does it mean I would have to spend more time with you, because if that is the case, fuck no. He obviously thinks that I’m wasting my life away behind a bar, which is fucking ridiculous because everything great has happened to me at a bar. I’ve met all of my best friends at a bar, I met my husband at a bar, and I’ve paid for everything I own from being behind a bar. What he doesn’t understand is that I probably make more money than he does, I get to say fuck at work, and I am a local celebrity. Sitting at a desk isn’t in me, or else I’d be doing it. I told him to leave me his card, and guess what - his start-up hasn’t started printing cards yet. Fuck nut.

One of our best waitresses got called tonight to go fight forest fires. She thinks it is what she wants to do. At first, I was selfish for the restaurant. I didn’t want her to leave because it meant hiring someone else and she is so fantastic, she is one of those people that is impossible to replace. But now, I’m worried, because it is fucking dangerous and they haven’t trained her at all. I was reading tonight how she is supposed to know how to use a chainsaw, drive a 5-2 transmission truck, and a million other things she doesn’t have a clue how to do. I honestly cannot believe they are sending her out there so green. She is supposed to be back on Friday to work. I told her she had the week to decide if she really wanted to leave the restaurant or not, because if so, next Friday and Saturday could be it until she returns in the fall. Assuming a tree doesn’t fall on her.

Otherwise, just the random drama of the veteran staff pissing on their territory. We hired a new bartender and the resident server just hounds her for every fucking thing. It’s unfortunate, because the bartender is good. She knows that the server is marking her turf, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’ll be glad when they’ve established a hierarchy.

Cheers!

I think everyone should go to college and get a degree and then spend six months as a bartender and six months as a cabdriver. Then they would really be educated. -- Al McQuire