Well, hello from (miserable-assed) Seattle on the Atlantic (side of the country)....
Yeah, it's raining agaaaain.
Yeah, I'm thrilled beyond words that it's not that foul, foul "sn"-shit.
It's just that the ground is pretty much soaked, so it's all just kinda laying there now, getting ugly.
Rain, like most chicks, is something that some people are always glad to see, while others know it as a necessary evil.
And, just like most females, when it first shows up, it's either welcomed, tolerated or ignored.
When none of those three reactions are satisfying anymore, it just haaaas to bump it's behavior up into the next catagory, where, eventually, it becomes the center of attention and quickly becomes annoying.
Then, just like most chicks, ya wind up hating it and wishing it would fuck off, never to be seen again.
Real nice.
(lmao....) Christ, that sounds just like my "lil frien'" this time, too. And, before I say one more word, there is just something I really hafta get off my chest (no, smartass, not hair).... I say the following as "your" waitress, one who likes the job (so far) and wants to keep liking it, if ya don't (fuckin') mind, (ya dolt): Do not, I repeat, DO NOT enter a restaurant as part of a goddamned HERD and order a milkshake.
EVER. In fact, just don't even get milkshakes in a restaurant at all, ever. If ya want one, go to friggin' Mickey D's, where all they hafta do is push a button for 45 seconds to "make" a shake, okay, dickweed?
We harried people WHO HANDLE YOUR FOOD do not have that luxury. We have to build those fuckers by hand. Scooping ice cream with a scoop the size of a hollowed out rat skull, inside of a chest freezer so deep it kills our backs. Then, we hafta go 32 different places to get all the damned ingredients for the damned thing, then we hafta stand there, turning that big silver cup thing on it's tiny, tiny perch while the utterly inefficient "mixer" takes 9 years to blend it.
No, we canNOT "just stick it on the machine and go do other shit", because that little perch sucks and the whole shebang can fly off, necessitating cleaning the entire 4 square mile area, thanks. It's a godamn fucking pain right in the ass and we hate you for it.
Especially when we're already busier than hell. I would never, in a million years, no matter how badly a person pisses me off, spit in their food, but, my hand to God, it crosses my mind when I hear the word "milkshake".
Please, stop it and never, ever do it again, World.
Thank you very much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cool thing yesterday at work.
I waited on four pilots from Willow Grove. You can tell a guy is from over there, even he's in street clothes. They just have this "aura" about them that makes them stand out from the typical schlub. It's astounding how many of them look like they could quit flying and become male models, too. They all look "All-American", somehow. In fact, seeing the real deals, like I do now days, makes me wonder whose idea Tom Cruise was for a pilot in that movie he did... what da hell was it called? I forget, but he's a pilot like I'm a neurosurgeon.
I don't even LOOK like one and neither does he. Ew. The ones I waited on yesterday were all in uniforms/jumpsuits with wings on them, so it was easy to be almost damned sure they were pilots. But, at the end of their meal, while three of them were talking and I had the fourth guys attention for a second, I asked him, "Can I ask what is probably a dumb question? You guys are pilots, aren'tcha?", grinning...
He shakes his head and says, "Yesss..."
"Well, you're the ones, then... I've been wanting so badly to say this to somebody who does what you do.... You guys are AWESOME. Truly awesome..."
And, I quickly told him about last week, when, while on my way down 611 past the base, I saw that there were four fighters getting ready to take off.
As I was coming back by, I decided to pull into the parking lot of "that other" restaurant there *grin* and watch them go. Well, my God... I not only held up my radio with the mic keyed so Eric could hear 'em too, I got head-to-toe goose bumps and could NOT stop crying driving home after they'd gone... Jeezus. I've heard before that there's something about a female, especially, riding a horse, controlling that much power so lightly and being "one" with the animal... I can understand that to the nth degree when I think of the airshows I've seen, now. Mostly regular guys that I can bring coffee to, do that stuff.
Holy shit. Amazing. That was one of the things I'd mentioned before I started waitressing again, too... That I'd like to be able to work wherever those guys go to eat, because waiting on them would be such an honor... And, I do! *giggle* They aren't our entire customer base or anything, but we are rightthere, so we do get quite a few. Pretty cool.
*big grin* I'm off today... from WORK, not mentally, because I'm ALWAYS "off" mentally and it would hardly bear mentioning... now would it? Ain't sure, yet, what I'm gonna do with this day, but I'll think of something soon, I'm sure. House needs a "tweaking", oughta go to Wally-world (WalMart) and get a coupla things (but, I'd rather be drug behind a bus than deal with the herds of 'tards who are probably currently clogging the aisles in there, don'tcha know), gotta get to the store sometime today, gonna make dinner later (no idea what, yet)... shit like that.
Exciting, ain't it?
lol... Actually, I love it just. like. this. I've had enough "exciting" to last 14 lifetimes. I remember the first time I heard my life described that way. It was by a chick I'm friends with and will be forever, even though it's been YEARS since I've seen her.
She was divorced from this Cro-magnon idiot, with a spawn of his to raise. This "child" wieghed over 100 pounds at six or so and he was not "just fat". He was a tiny bull. "Dad" was a total dick, really.
*Quick story about him... He was a guard at the county jail years ago. He was also growing a pot jungle in my hometown, where he and my friend lived, which is TINY. Didn't even have a stop light in town, til about 5 years ago... SMALL, SMALL town, okay? Asshole couldn't keep from showing off his pot jungle to everybody who stopped by. Including me. Those plants TOWERED over my head. I was impressed. Anyway, this one guy he showed wound up in jail for domestic violence shit with his piece, and he expected preferential treatment, which he did NOT get and... whadda ya think happened? Yeah... asshole got busted shortly thereafter and wound up inside "his" own jail. Idiot.*
Aaanyway, she was "living" this life of hers, working a 9-to-5 job, raising this kid from hell, and having to deal with "Genius-Man" in the meantime.
I, on the other hand, was living in her house, having recently fled a cross-addicted dickheads house, was waitressing at a tiny little greasyspoon/truckstop on the midnight shift and losing my mind during the day.
She was listening to me go over the trainwreck that was my life and she said, and I quote..." Man, I wish my life was half as exciting as yours..." I just laughed and hugged her and told her I'd had enough "excitment", thanks and tried to hold on to THAT perspective (of hers) for a while.
Musta worked.
I've never forgotten it and it has made me laugh out loud during a few really "exciting" episodes... God, love the girl... she's a sweetie, she is. Delusional, but a sweetie... Okay, now I hafta pee so bad, I can't sit straight, so I'm gonna go.... TO THE BATHROOM, NOT HERE, KIDNEYS!!!!! Back later... Peace *runs screaming down the hall, leaping over cats and shit, in a long flannel "granny-gown" nightgown, kinda thing*
movemovemovemovemove!!!!!!!
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