The students are back. I know this because they come in in groups, fresh from winter in barbados or wherever the fuck rich girls with pony tails go in the winter. They come in with their debutante coats and high tilted chins to eat chips and salsa and OHMYGOD quesidillas and veggie burritos. they dont flinch when i wish them good day, so i stand behind my bar and roll my eyes, check the clock, text a friend at another bar and will the night to end. a former co-worker has half price sushi at his bar and its been a couple of weeks so, lets just get this shift over so i can go see some folks that matter.

by the way, you pronounce it CHIP-POE-T-LAY, it took me like 3 weeks to get that shit right.

new year, new job to suck at

the truth is, i really wasnt the worst waitress at all. i was, in fact, pretty fucking good once i got the hang of it. i fell in the best kind of love with my coworkers and the music they played (well, most of it). spent fabulous afterhournightsintomorningtimes watching captioned films and sitting on the beer cooler, forever dented to the shape of my ass, leaning just far enough to pour another gaelic and laugh a little more...alas....this precious job has ended...my bar sold and i have been put out into the wilderness of small town living to find an adequate replacement position. the new job has cuban sandwiches, but they are not as good. and i have no control over the music whatsoever...i never want to hear a jingle or a jangle or a song about a snowflake everfuckingagain. so now i tend bar and wait tables at a small cafe with a professorly clientle and lots of women who work there. they work there and they bitch alot. apparently i dont move very fast. and neither does the poorman's graham coxon type brooklyn refugee who backwaits who seems quite smart and sweet and is instead labeled "a fucking dumbass" ... so we are both relegated to behind the bar. i make good mojitos and kind of sort of enjoy my tipout. not as much as my coworkers bitch about having to give up 3%. apparently in corporate restaraunts its better. trust me, i hear tell of it everyfuckingnight. in corporate this would never happen...i can just go back to chotchkys and fuck this place....lord what i would give for the days when the biggest dissention was when to make the first red cups of behind the bar shots.

at the same time, i kind of like them, you know, funny how that works...they entertain when i can keep my eyes from rolling into my head and my teeth from grating at the repetition of the same overandover complaints. just...dont ask me what an empenada is, or if i prefer toquitos or burritos because i dont fucking know... i just pour the beer.