The glamorous life.

Back when I was single I noticed that when a guy found out that I was a bartender his attraction to me increased by about 30%. I usually left the bar with at least 2 numbers from random dudes sticking them in the tip jar or writing their number on the credit card receipt. This has always puzzled me and the only conclusion I can come to is that he thought he would get free drinks. Or the guys at the bar must have failed miserably with all the other chicks who aren't wearing a tuxedo shirt and black dockers and thought "well, she was sure nice to me all night. Maybe she likes me."

All the little servers wanna be bartenders, too. Thats all I hear from the kids at the restaurant. "How did you become a bartender? Did you have to go to school for it? Will you teach me?" Look kids, its really not all its cracked up to be. When a server takes a drink order at the table, let's say for a Margarita, a Sex on the Beach, a Pina Colada and a Guiness Draught, all they do is walk to the computer, type in the order and go run food...flirt with the cooks...clean some tables...text messege their boyfriends...smoke in the bathroom, whatever. But that order then goes to the bartenders to make. Those are four COMPLETELY different drinks that are ALL step intensive. You are lookin' at a good two minutes of turn around.

Now say you are the bartender and you take that same drink order from a group that just sat at the bar. They are sitting right in front of you so they are watching you make it and telling you that their mom's second cousin is a bartender and he makes margarita's with a splash of orange juice and they really wished I woulda made it like that, meanwhile showing you pictures of their brother-in-laws dog who just had surgery on his anus. At that same time that you are smiling and acting like you care, you also have to make the servers drinks that rang in some ridiculous shot that no one has ever heard of but some douchebag at their table heard once at a bar in jersey and is trying to impress his date. Then a wide eyed food runner comes walking out of the kitchen and just stands in front of you with arms loaded down with food mouthing the words "where's seat 10" with a mixed look of fear and too much eyeliner. While all this is going on some butt-munch walks in and wants a $2.50 beer and hands you a $100 and you know you don't have the change but the manager is at the host stand attempting to be witty with the 16 year olds he's hired to boost his ego. About this time a server brings you a chocolate martini that you made half an hour ago and says the customer wanted an apple martini instead however they didn't realize what they had until they drank half of it. Then your regular at the end of bar yells for another round of whiskey and pabst blue ribbon for his buddies and while yer at it let him get a look at those 'big ol titties'. By this time a hostess has come to inform you that there is a To Go order waiting on line one and you look up to see your ex boyfriend walk in with a 5'10" blue eyed blonde with brand new boobs and Gucci bag.

Still want my job?

Scared, Confused and otherwise freakin' the heck out!

I went to my first day of training today for my new job. I've been out of the restaurant business for the last year doing the make-up thing so its very exciting to get back into what I do best. I've been in some form of the service industry for the last 14 years and if there is one thing that I know I'm good at its this.

That having said, I'm now terrified. I get like this anytime I start a new restaurant job though. Except Tripps for some reason and I think that was because I was with Pam (my roomate at the time). This restaurant is starting out to be a Village Tavern clone.
For those of you not from the area VT is the big dog in fine dining. Us in the industry know that they set the standard by which other restaurants follow. If you can make it at VT you and make anywhere. They have always scared me a bit. All but one of the managers are from Village Tavern and one of the owners was VP of operations for them, so naturally they would display several of their standards. The sad thing is, they are kinda stealing their menu too.

The main reason I'm scared is because there are too many things taking place at once and I'm having a hard time keeping up. I'm in school and I'm trying to pass menu tests and its all just getting a little hinky. Too many things are overlapping. I'm a perfectionist so not knowing menu items the first time I'm asked in some stupid game at training today is flipping me out. I want to shine. I need to shine. My anxiety is starting to show and I feel panicy. I can't let that happen at this job.

You see not only is this a new job, its a new and only opportunity to make friends. I have lived in this area for only 3 months and I've have no friends. I am a social person and being out here in the country with no one to bond with is seriously taking a toll on me. I need that interaction and I don't want to come across as a weirdo or I won't make friends at work. All this is stressing me to the max. Luckily I have a meeting with my psychiatrist on Thursday and will hopefully get medicated so that I can cope with all this better.

I just need you all to route for me so that I can make it through this training period. I truely believe in the power of positive thinking and I need some good vibes to come my way in a major way. As sad as it may sound, my blog friends are all I have as a support group right now. I love my computer because all of my friends live in it.

Southern drawls and other things that probably get on firefly's nerves.

haha no offense to firefly I just had to come up with an attention grabbing title.

I love my southern accent and wouldn't change it for the world. However, a good portion of my family lives in Philadelphia and the surrounding Bucks County area so when I go to visit them I get constant backlash about it. My sister has lived there for over fourteen years and still has her thick accent. I can only imagine the ridiculousness she faces on a daily basis.

I can't go anywhere up there without someone commenting on my accent. The first 4 times it happens I can let it ride but when you can't ask a question without getting grilled about where you are from, it gets annoying. My grandmother is from Possum Holler NC and she has lived in PA for the last 53 years. She now has that thick yankee accent but I make sure to let others know when they say something to us and not to her.

Grandma's summer home is in New Jersey where I take the most ribbing. I absolutely love Jersey! I love everything about it, the accents, the attitudes, the big hair, the over accesesorizing, the spandex, the open shirted hairy chested men, the boardwalk, etc. But you don't see me confronting people with Jersey hair and making fun of that do you?

I guess its just a matter of how we are raised and how we are taught to tolerate differences. While 'yes ma'am' gets on firefly's nerves, it makes me feel like I've encountered a kindred spirit. A joy to encounter in such a fast paced, overly obnoxious society that we seem to be raising these days.

Don't call me Hun!

I absolutely hate to be called Hun or sweetie. It just sounds so condesending to me. I'm in the the south so I'm used to honey but when when you shorten it to Hun I just want to smack someone. If you are going to talk down to me at least have the common courtesy to use the full word!

Sweetie is worse. Girls seem to use this a lot and I tend to think its a domination thing. Like, If I call her sweetie first then she knows I'm in charge. It really really grinds my gears. Usually the 'sweetie' comment is followed closely by a fake smile. Uggh.

Dreary days make dreary minds

After a long weekend of construction in the basement and studying for a test, the last thing I wanted to do was go to school. Lucky me, my 9am class was cancelled due to my professor getting called to jury duty. I'm sure they won't pick him because he is an attorney in Forsyth County and knows almost everyone in the courthouse so it would be a conflict of interest. But I get today off none the less.

I do have a test in my computer class at 2pm. And then I start my new job directly after. Its 10:33am but looking outside you would think its 7:30 or 8pm. Its almost dark and very damp from all the rain last night. I took an ambien again last night because I couldn't sleep and I slept way too long. I have that woozy feeling and I dont' want to do anything.

Finally out of the abyss that is my workplace.

Today was my last day at The Snatcheral. (that is the not so affectionate term the girls that work there have dubbed it because the name of the place is I Natural.) I no longer have to drive an hour one way to work to make $8.50 an hour and have rich women treat me like the hired help. Not all of them act in that manner, but a good portion of the women that come there have a great deal of money and like to flaunt it. I was merely their link to the fashion trends in cosmetics and airbrush tanning and didn't warrant a more than a pityed look at my Target or Old Navy attire.

Its a shame I never wrote more about my salon adventures because there were some doozies! Maybe I will update ya'll with some back stories this weekend when I get done with my take home exam and studying for my test on Tuesday. If you have never worked in the beauty industry you are in for a hoot and a holler of a treat. Women are nuts and even more so in mass.

A quick one before I go...

I have very attractive hands. I no not have a picture of them or I would show you, but it is the one feature of mine that I am very proud of. I have very pink nail beds and long fingernails with extremely white tips. These are my natural nails and I do not have acrylic overlays or french polish. I only wear clear nail polish with proteins in them to strengthen them but no other polishes on my nails.

A woman came into the shop to purchase a something and noticed nails and asked what color I was wearing. This happens often so I gave her my standard answer that I was merely wearing clear polish and nothing else.

She looked at me like I had just slapped her and said, "I understand that but what color is under the clear?" Um, lady I just told you that I'm not wearing any.

So again I told her that I wasn't wearing any. And again with the slapped look. This time she got huffy and said, "Well if you don't want to tell me what polish you are wearing then all you have to do is say so." Helloooo NUTJOB!

"Mam I assure you that if I was wearing polish I would most definitely tell you what color it is because we work on commision and I would be more than happy to make a sale. But unfortunately for me and you, I'm not wearing nail polish. I would be happy to sell you clear nail polish if that is what you would like, but I am not, nor do I ever wear nail polish with color. I am just blessed with very healthy nails not to mention I work in a salon where I am surrounded by nail techs who constantly work on my nails when we are slow."

The lady then gets all riled up and says to me, "I get a manicure every week and my nails don't look like that!" duh, A: you don't get them done here and B: your fingers look like you regularly slam them in a car door and then bite the nails to the quick like its your full time job!

"Well next time you get your nails done ask your nail tech to just put clear on and see how you like it." I say with a pleasant smile on my face.

The lady stormed out of the shop and I never saw her again.
Thank God.