I'm back...

Still alive, still broke... especially now that I've got all the damned bills, including the PHONE BILL, paid.

I'm tired as hell (just got home from work), I think I've got PMS again because if I ain't cryin', I'm TRYIN' to kill something and I'm totally disgusted with the fact that it took so long to get the phone bill paid, since it was less than a hundred bucks, for piss sakes.

It was a matter of "timing".
Well, at first it was anyway.

Then, two days ago, it started buggin' me that I couldn't come write here, then today, the bully little GIRL-boy cook at work hadda be a dick, so I was determined to pay the phone bill, and to hell wid whoever doesn't like it 'cause they don't get THEIR money from me for now, ya know?

Eric's shit is paid, the damned TV is still on, there IS food in this house (and NO, I do NOT need to know how many consecutive packs o'hotdogs this makes, thanks), none of the critters have died of anything, let alone starvation, although the horses may very well be carried away by FLIES, if I don't get to get some fly spray soon and the cats need flea collars, but fuck, man.

Ya know?
Jeez.

However....
I love my Boss.
Wanna know why?

He asked me for ones today for the register and when he saw my pitiful little stack, he was appalled and gave me Friday nights to hostess, too, now.

Whatta guy.
Such a sweetie.

He asked me what was up, why I hadn't made more and I honestly didn't know why.
Today, everybody just "2 buck"-ed me to death.

I don't know if it's because it's the end of the month, or if it's the weather, or what, but... today wasn't as good as Thursdays usually are.

Ah well.
Whatcha gunna do?
Carry a sidearm to the table?
(OH HELL YES, please....)

That would solve oh! so many troublesome aspects of this line of work.
Liiiike.... dickweeds who sit and talk for two hours before they even LOOK at the menu, the "other" dickweeds who hafta tell ya all the stupid shit they want for their meal one item at a time, thereby increasing tenfold the amount of running you have to do, the other other dickweeds who, after running your ass off, leave you "2 bucks", no matter how much their bill was or how admirably you met their challenge and didn't kick the shit out of them.

A gun.

Yep.
That'd do it, I bet.

Bet I'd see an increase in tippage, too....
One way or the other.

Anyway...

I was gone for eight days. A "Beatle week". ("Eight Days a Week"? Get it?)
Not that anybody gave a half a shit, except for Deb, thank you Darlin'.

I expect a TINY TURNOUT at my funeral now.
(Like I didn't before? Pfft.)

Actually, I'm almost convinced I could disappear and it would go unremarked for longer than I'd like to think about and now, I KNOW it'd be at least 8 days before anybody started looking for me, in most of which cases I'd already be DEAD, soooo.....

So what?

Exactly.
So what.

Have I mentioned lately how much I hate PMS?
Well...
I do.
A LOT.

And now, I'm gonna go to the "library" for a while.
I'm assuming I'll be back in something sooner than eight days.

On the other hand....

Nah.
I'll be back.
I know me.

Meantime, I hope everybody is fine and stays that way.

Tawk atcha's later.
Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 06:59 PM

Comments

Posted by: Light & Dark at July 29, 2005 03:10 AM (+Ds2b)

Posted by: dee at July 29, 2005 11:15 AM (sZnML)

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