Sunday, May 16, 2010

My femaleness is exploding!!!

I've been told several times in my life that I'm "not like other girls". It's not that I'm magical, I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm pretty cool, but my breasts don't shoot lasers and I wasn't chosen to slay the vampires. I'm only human, but when it comes to "typical" female things, I sometimes deviate from the path. I prefer Futurama and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia to Sex and the City or Will and Grace. I love pearls and high heels, but I rarely wear them. I live in leggings and t-shirts at home. I would NEVER wear leggings as pants in public (for one thing, they are clearly NOT pants. And for another, I get that they're comfortable, fat girls, but really? You're making it worse). Ugg boots make me want to punch girls in their babymakers. I think all things butt-related are HILARIOUS. I try to avoid drama, especially at work. I am the opposite of a social butterfly. Babies make me uncomfortable (with a few exceptions). Yes, I can be overly emotional, but I tend to reserve those moments for people I really trust and care about. I hate when strangers can see me cry.


The BF and I were walking around downtown Ann Arbor, after an amazing lunch at Grizzly Peak, talking and laughing, having a grand old time. Up ahead we hear music playing and see some college kids filming something down an alley. As we get closer, we see that it's a homeless man dancing to Michael Jackson. I mean he was gettin down with his bad self. It looked like a for real choreographed routine. Everyone was super into it, taking pictures, watching this guy. The BF and I stopped an watched for a minute or two and then as we walked away the BF commented on that guy having a great time. "I thought it was kind of sad" I said AS I BURST INTO TEARS.


Why did I have this reaction? What is going on? HAS THE WORLD SPUN OFF ITS AXIS??

Normal people see a guy dancing his heart out on a beautiful Spring day and think:

But apparently, when I see the same thing, I cry like a baby.

Am I going to start thinking The Real Housewives of Orange County is compelling? Will I demand diamonds from the bf? OH GOD. Will I start buying t-shirts that say things like Princess and You Say I'm a Bitch Like It's a Bad Thing instead of Hit Girl and Planet Express? HAS GLENN BECK SOMEHOW MURDERED MY COMMON SENSE AND DECENCY? My brain cells are turning to mush and I'm going to become a conservative moron who thinks dancing is the work of satan.

Dear gods, this cannot happen. I MUST PRESERVE MY SCATHING WIT.

Off to find a cure...

Thursday, May 13, 2010

You Shut Your Mouth When You're Talking To Me!

You know what I hate? I hate when it's my day off and I'm trying to run a few errands early in the morning so I can spend the rest of the day in my pjs watching Netflix, but the guy at the post office won't stop going on and on about his recent trip to Connecticut and how his brother hates soup and he has a lot of back problems. What is with that? When did people working in the service industry decide they wanted to talk to customers TOO much? And what part of my relaxed facial expression (which everyone always tells me is "pissed off" looking ) says "Yes, I do want to listen to you. Please, please tell me all about your lame little life"?

I think people need to learn that there is a huge difference between polite small talk and one person just babbling on and on about absolutely nothing while the other just stares at you, completely horrified. And when the horrified person just keeps nodding while glancing to either side, that means that they're looking for an escape! SO STOP TALKING!

I've been working in the service industry for almost a decade now, and I would never, ever assume that the people I'm helping out/waiting on give a rat's ass about me or my thoughts and opinions on this crazy world we live in. They just want friendly, efficient service and they want to go about their day. RIGHT? I mean, is this just me being socially awkward? I can understand if a customer asks you a question, but I've never felt comfortable just striking up conversations with strangers. 98% of the time it's because I don't want to talk to you, but the other 2% of the time, when I want to tell  you I really like your necklace or haircut, I start to panic and feel awkward about it. So maybe this is a combination of me being a weirdo and everyone else being really annoying and much too comfortable with over-sharing.

The BF always tells me about how he enjoys his chats with his tables, maybe there's just something wrong with me that I have no interest in carrying on extended conversations with strangers. Maybe I would make more money if I were comfortable with that, but I mean, what are you supposed to talk about? And what sort of person just starts blabbing about their life to strangers? Doesn't that just make you seem lonely and desperate?

So am I the weirdo here? Or is it everyone else?

I'm pretty sure it's everyone else.

CLARIFICATION: That picture is someone sharing personal life details with me, and I'm barfing. Because that's how I feel when this happens to me. It makes me feel like I want to barf on you and your stupid story.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Why Servers LOVE to be CUT

No, servers are not all emo and into self-mutilation....getting "cut" in the restaurant biz means you get to go home! And everybody loves to leave work and go home, right? I mean, sure, everyone else gets excited when the clocks clicks over to that hour when they get to leave work, but that's just it...most people know EXACTLY when they get to go home. Once 3:00 or 5:00 rolls around, their work day ends. But servers have no actual idea of what time they'll get to go back home.

A lot of restaurants do a first in, first out sort of system, or a numbering system, so if there are 8 servers on the floor, they're numbered 1 through 8, 1 being the first person cut, 2 being the second and so on... and 7 & 8 being closers. So, in most places, you have a general idea of when your work days ends...but even then, it depends on the level of business, etc. 

 But not where I work. Our restaurant likes to make it even more of a guessing game. It's like playing the lottery. There's no rhyme or reason behind it, you can't possibly see it coming, but all of a sudden, there is a "C" through someone's name on the floorplan and OH SWEET JESUS, you really, REALLY hope it's yours. 99.9% of your day, this is the most irritating thing in the whole world. BUT once that "C" makes its way through your name, the amount of sheer and unadultered JOY that ripples through you is unlike anything you can even begin to imagine.

To the naked eye, it looks like this:

But friends, it feels like this:

Suddenly, anything seems possible. You can climb any mountain. Run any marathon. YOU WILL BE THE NEXT PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. In fact, you're fairly certain you could probably just run the world. WHY NOT? There's nothing you can't do! YOU HAVE BEEN CUT!

Yes, it might be a slight overreaction, but I can't be the only one who feels this way, right? I see my co-workers faces when that "C" is through their name. It literally tastes and feels like we've been given our freedom back. Even if I'm starving, even if I have to pee really bad, I don't care. I will do my sidework and polish my section and GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE. Free soup? F that. Bathroom? It can wait. I'M GOING HOME!!!!

Ridiculous? Perhaps. But a fact is a fact, and the fact is: 8-9 times a week I get to experience liberation. And it's totally awesome.