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Aug. 7th, 2008 05:30 pmI think I'm calling in and begging off work tonight. I'm so utterly exhausted. I have been working nights for the last two weeks straight and frankly, last night was the nail in my little waitressing coffin. Packed house, filled to capacity and then some, which while I know if technically against the rules, can I help it if people kept milling around inside and out of Last Call, coming in to have a drink or two and then meandering back outside because they could still hear the band from the patio?
I love that Breaker Street has such a huge local fan base but there are times that I really wish they weren't so enthusiastic. I was elbowed, shoved, stepped on and just generally knocked around more last night than I have ever been. It's amazing that I didn't spill anything on people. And Mike wonders why I resort of walking across table tops and the bar at times.
And so help me, if I have to resort to slapping a giant "He's Taken" sticker on Ro's forehead, I will. I don't even want to tell you how many times I was asked if I knew his phone number, if he had a girlfriend (or boyfriend in a couple of instances) and oh, a whole host of appalling questions I'm not even willing to repeat.
Though Ro, you might want to tell Kreske that there's a very persistent brunette who reeeeeeeeeeally would like a moment of his time. I have her name and number if he's interested. (I might hold it for ransom if he is)
It's official: I'm not going into work tonight. I'm going to run myself a hot bath, find a good book and gorge myself on fresh fruit and white wine. Then I'm going to bed and ignoring the world until some time tomorrow afternoon.
I love that Breaker Street has such a huge local fan base but there are times that I really wish they weren't so enthusiastic. I was elbowed, shoved, stepped on and just generally knocked around more last night than I have ever been. It's amazing that I didn't spill anything on people. And Mike wonders why I resort of walking across table tops and the bar at times.
And so help me, if I have to resort to slapping a giant "He's Taken" sticker on Ro's forehead, I will. I don't even want to tell you how many times I was asked if I knew his phone number, if he had a girlfriend (or boyfriend in a couple of instances) and oh, a whole host of appalling questions I'm not even willing to repeat.
Though Ro, you might want to tell Kreske that there's a very persistent brunette who reeeeeeeeeeally would like a moment of his time. I have her name and number if he's interested. (I might hold it for ransom if he is)
It's official: I'm not going into work tonight. I'm going to run myself a hot bath, find a good book and gorge myself on fresh fruit and white wine. Then I'm going to bed and ignoring the world until some time tomorrow afternoon.
