Another One Bites the Dust!

TERMINATION.
 Such a frightful little word. The funny part about that is, being terminated is the last thing you need to worry about as a worker of The Valley.  Indeed not, our workers just tend to quit.



You would literally have to pull a major "oh-NO-she-didn't" stunt in order to get fired, and even after being fired, you would still be asked to come back because no one else is biting at the employment ads.

With new businesses and restaurants setting up shop in the city, workers both disgruntled and desperate are heading for the hills in search of new opportunities.  Running, full speed ahead out of The Valley, and refusing to look back.  Good riddens.  Auf wiedersehen!

This however manifests a rotten anxiety for hiring new willing, able and competent workers as quickly as possible.

Working at a privately owned restaurant is MUCH different than working corporate.  Employees have to learn that there is no such thing as "the corporate ladder" as far as chain of command.  The owner basically embodies this divine right as it is his restaurant.  There are no systems of checks and balances. Rules can be made up, ammended or abolished at any given time.  Rules also don't apply to everyone...there's always the exception.

Our staff gives every new worker anywhere from a week to a month tops before they realize the bullshit that goes on and reactively pull a Houdini, mysteriously disappearing without so much as a peep like many workers before them.

Here is what the new staff is looking like these days:

BARSTAFF-



The Hippie Rocker- A vagabond, jack of all trades, musician at heart, Ozzy* is the new addition to the dwindling line of bartenders. I also consider him crazy enough to a certain degree for actually, genuinely liking being employed at The Valley. Time will tell with this one.

SERVERS-

 

The Fellow Foreigner- I'll call him Lazarus*.  We hired him in because he speaks broken English at best yet fluent Arabic, which helps a great deal as a majority of the guests are Middle Eastern.  The issue with Lazarus is that he is lacksadaisical and bull-headed.  He has probably quit a good three times, and still asks to come back.  And even still? We take him back. (When will we learn?) Beggars can't be choosers apparently. At times, I feel as though we'll hire anything with a pulse.

The Mother Teresa- In an industry where you constantly take crap from coworkers, cooks, guests, owners...it's diffficult to always maintain an unwaivering level of tempermant.  If certain problems don't get under your skin, I would assume there is something wrong with you.  Little Miss Mary* Sunshine hailed from always-sunny Arizona but couldn't stand the dark, cloudy atmosphere of our waitstaff.  Like they say, if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. See ya, Mary.



The Girl Next Door- A brunette version of fresh-faced actress, Elisha Cuthbert, Danni* is not to be confused with the role of the character in that movie. Danni is probably the youngest worker at The Valley so we'll see what she's made of. The bonus is that she hasn't been jaded by the restaurant industry... yet.


The Time-Bomb- A fiesty "ride or die" type chick, bold and brazen, raised as the daughter of a trucker with of course a mouth to show for it. Between all the "what's fair and what isn't," I can see a going-postal explosion of ferocious verbal diarrhea in her future whenever she decides to walk the plank.

The Poker Face Pro- Morgan... not much to say, other than the fact that she strongly reminds me of Daria.  Dry humor glazed over in a thick-coated monotone.  Sardonic yet straight-faced. 

HOSTESSES-



The Go-Getter- We've had hostesses before that were only good for looking pretty at the front stand. They made more outgoing calls than answering incoming, and carrying out high-chairs was too physical of a task. Sweeter than pie, Ella* seems like a bit of a space cadet at times but you'll find she works harder than all of the other hostesses combined and has yet to complain. Trooper for sure.

The Temptress- Natasha*, as in Natasha from Waiting, is one of the newest hostesses. If you've seen the movie, I've said enough for you to paint your own picture.




The Cabbage Patch Kid-  Aside from the fact that she looks like she's not a day over thirteen, she is also named after a vegetable.  Apple*- yes, I know that is a fruit- is also a hostess and so far, so good.  Sitting tables... It's not rocket science, right?


Coworkers.
Always an odd bunch.
They come and they go. 
You don't have to like them all. Equally, they aren't obligated to like you.
Some only last a week.
Others ride it out for several years.
There are those who are lazy, while a few are the true work horses who support the entire team.

We're all looking for something else out there. Something with more meaning that brings a larger, more fulfilling purpose to our lives.  Perhaps we only have to struggle for the moment so we can better ourselves.  Learn from the experience.  Build character.  Cultivate good ethics. Realize what does, and does not matter in this life.  One could only hope we will possess the selflessness it takes to work toward the betterment of others, not just ourselves.  But while we're here, we might as well enjoy it for what it's worth.

Strive on.

-LM



Photo Credit:
You're Fired- www.memegenerator.net
Download Big Daddy- www.kat.ph
Whoopi Goldberg Quits 'Sister Act'...- www.babble.com
Why Daria Should Never Come Back to Television- www.thegloss.com
Women of Waiting- www.tigerdroppings.com
Miss Neeshabeth's Blog- www.wolframa.buzznet.com
Online Dating Profile- www.mexiginger.wordpress.com
Images of The Girl Next Door- www.kootation.com
Legally Blonde 2 Pictures- www.starpulse.com

The Great Gatsby

Three things you will learn (that I have learned) from this post:

~Money- it comes and it goes. Don't let it ruin you.
~Things aren't always as they seem.
~Let the other person make a fool of themselves. You'll always come out looking better in the end.
 With that said-

The city of Buckingham* is so cloistered.  Its residents all seem to know eachother. Its workers are all networked with one another. This elite circle of acquaintences operates like a cult- you're either in or you're out. Just be advised, they're watching you.  Once people know your name and can single you out in a crowd, it can either be a blessing in disguise, or purely nothing but trouble.


One wrong impression and you are slandered. Blacklisted.  In a city so small, that is a dangerous line to cross.  Just one tiny spark to ignite the kindle, and the whole building goes up in flames.


As a waitress, when I'm not sporting an ever trendy apron and whipping up plates of hummus, I'm enjoying what little time I have for myself FOR myself.

This means every once in awhile, yes, I do go out around town.  I've been known to stop into Flannigan's* for a Guinness, or rock a miniskirt and heels over at Midtown* on a Friday night.

 
I'm only human- we all need a little entertainment.  I'm not a stranger to having conversations with strangers as it is part of my job, but if I engage in this outside of work, it suddenly becomes a flaw. The trait of being friendly turns into being too fast, too forward.

At what point is having fun worth the risk of others talking about you or spreading malicious rumors?  I've gotten the brunt of it.
I'm a waitress in a wealthier city, therefore... 
I must be either looking for a handout, or a short Jewish man with a fat, padded wallet to cling on to. 
My regulars must not be coming back to me for my "good service" alone.
She's a "favorite" for a reason.

Please.
Stop while you're ahead.

It's a damn shame that women who are technically either trophy wives or "kept" women (and sometimes the men they are attached to) have to spend their schedule-free days tearing down the reputations of others who actually work hard. They really have nothing better to do.



You know, the kind of women who should be at home watching their four children from two different men (Becky* we'll call her), but no.  Instead they are sitting at your bar, calling you out to your face in front of everyone.  Lashing out like an unruly child, and all I can do is sit there and take it for the fear of being unprofessional.  Frozen out of shock, I stood there- a deer in headlights- dumbfounded and appalled.

Two Saturdays ago Becky caused this exact scene at the restaurant where I work.
Defamed me in front of a packed bar during a busy night. Vulgarities and all.

Now me?  I'm QUITE the opposite of "slow to anger".  I have absolutely no idea how or why I did not pull back and release a fury of rage sending flying fists, smashing her surgically enhanced features.  The bitch deserved a good beating.



But what has my mother taught me? 
You are better than that.

Becky was simply upset to find out that her sleezebag boyfriend has been talking to other women behind her back.  She clearly took it out on the wrong person, as I am neither the one to make a move nor accept any advance that had recently been sent on his behalf.  I'm no threat because I could never be attached to someone who claims they are "humble" but owns three or four luxury vehicles, a custom Frank Lloyd Wright home, and escapes to the Bahamas whenever he feels the itch.
Humble would be to use his practice of being a plastic surgeon to fix the faces of children mauled by dogs, or burn victims-- not supply every stripper in the area with a new set of tits.

 As she tore into me, he sat there denying everything because he knew he was in trouble.  Hot tears had already found their way, streaming down my face.  I was helpless and alone with no one on my side to rescue me, bored into by the eyes of curious onlookers.

I will say it is a very sad, sad thing to come to realize. Truly tragic.  As they both came back in a week later to dine, holding hands and cuddling-- her in a new pair of Louboutin's as well as an $1,800 purse...
People can be bought.
And those doing the buying, aren't in it- any of it- for the right reasons.
It is, as Wulf said, all a big show.  "Lies," he said, "they all only like to lie."

 So this facade...this glamorous, tantazlizing, alluring lifestyle of the rich and the famous... is all dramatization. It is indeed a game. At the end of the day, if you take away the shiny cars that smell of new leather, strip off the Oscar de la Renta gown, and come back to Michigan (of all states) from that cabana you were sweating under from whatever unpronouncable island you vacation at...

You're just another Great Gatsby-- an invented "somebody" who will never find the true meaning of happiness because all the glitters ain't gold-- and the things that DO shine one day tarnish or inevitably turn to rust.  At the end of the day, all the riches in the world that you dote on and stockpile still don't mean you have a good heart.



I have DEFINITELY made a few mistakes along the way.
I have befriended a few people who have only brought me down.
I do however think it's a better thing to be slow in learning how to open my own eyes to reality, than to live blindly for the rest of my life.

If I could go back and tweak a few of the variables- take the path less traveled by, where would I be?
Hopefully not still turning tables, listening to this nonsense.

As F. Scott Fitzgerald concluded his novel, I will wrap up this post,
"And so we beat on, boats against the current, born back ceaselessly into the past."
-LM

Photo Credit:
The Illuminati and Pop Culture- www.fourwinds10.net
Can Retail Technology Save the British Pub?- www.blogs.independent.co.uk
Paperbag Facebook Covers- www.iwantcovers.com
The Book of Jackson: I'm Not Mad at a Gold Digger- www.thebookofjackson.blogspot.com
Temper-tantrum- www.brokenheals.com
Drama 20- www.mrbloxham.wordpress.com
The Power of Women's Voices in The Great Gatsby- www.blog.commarts.wisc.edu

DUMB LUCK

There's work ethic....

Things like be respectful at work, be mindful of others and of your guests' needs.

Show up on time.  Complete your sidework before, after and during your shift.

Stay off your damn cell phone.

 

My phone goes off while I'm working last night and I let it go to messaging.

I glanced down real quick to see a random 313 number.  I thought to myself, "If the contact was not stored in my phone, it must not be important."

Guess who?

 

 

It was 98.7 AMP Radio calling for the Phrase That Pays and I instead got a voice message letting me know I missed out on winning a cool $1,000.

You know, "More hit music every hour.
Wayyyy less commercials.
Detroit's new 98.7 Amp Radio!"?

Yeah. That.



I can only hope that this rare opportunity comes back around, and at the same time I can only laugh and shake my head in utter disbelief. Yeah, this shit would happen to me. Honestly, if I didn't have BAD luck, I would have no luck at all.

Fml.


-LM
Photo Credit:www.sodahead.com
Taken from the Facebook page of "Gillian"
"How to Get Out of a Traffic Ticket"- www.mvposts.com

PDAs and Pure Romance

 
There's always a fuzzy line drawn between what is and isn't acceptable for PDAs.

Do we just hold hands?  Fingers laced or hands cupped?  Can they see where my mitts are under the table?  Wait, freeze. He's going in for a kiss. If you allow just a peck, you'll worry he'll think you're a prude, but anything longer and everyone else will think you're a whore. Do I close my eyes? Is he closing his? Everyone's watching. Shit, everyone really is watching. What the fuck, did that girl just take a picture...


Well. These thoughts cross the minds of some people. Others, not so much.
I've mentioned before that I've worked at a different restaurant, The Bison Bar, a while back.  Of course this joint isn't as upscale and classy as the one I'm at now, but that isn't the point. 

The crowd that frequents the restaurant is very diverse- the younger crowd for the dollar pint specials, business professionals from the area as well as local families.  Every once in a while, there was a random "you don't come here often" couple that ambled in. 

Whether this was the old man and his much younger and way-too-obvious escort, or the intoxicated couple coming back from seeing Eddie Money, it didn't matter.  No one deserves to come into a restaurant to eat, only to see an older couple playing tonsil hockey.  For a moment, it could be confused with a little mouth-to-mouth CPR but who are we kidding? It's downright disgusting.  It makes your insides turn ever so slightly, and your meal begin to lose its flavor.  It's almost as revolting as when you see someone pop out their dentures at the table and swish them around in their glass. Usually it's just enough PDA to make you blush and turn away.  This was more comparable to a trainwreck.  You can't help but gawk. Total National Geographic. Too graphic for me.


And with a shudder, I just got goosebumps.

Even today at The Valley I got front row tickets to see a couple tongue wrestling and another female nearly go skiing at the booth she was sitting at, sandwiched between two men.  (Mom: this is something I refuse to explain to you. Please refer to Urban Dictionary.) The interaction escalates to the point where it's almost tempting to just hand over a list of the nearest hotels, and quickly usher them out of the building. I'm terribly sorry we have no vacancies as this is The Valley, NOT Super 8.
 

The blatant disregard for basic manners has led me to wonder this; Is there no tact anymore? Where has the decency gone? Clearly PDAs don't discriminate. From your down home burger joint to your finer dining establishment, people can't seem to keep their hands off of eachother and their saliva to themselves.  And no.  I'm not just writing this because I ain't got no lovin' of my own and I'm a single and cynical bitch.  I'm a cynical bitch regardless, lovin' or no lovin'. Again, that's besides the point.  I'm writing this today because there's an epidemic of "I don't care what anyone else thinks, Ima do me" attitude sweeping the nation and it's downright annoying. 
MTV Cribs used to always introduce a celebrity's bedroom with, "This is where the magic happens" because it's TRUE. The "magic" belongs THERE, not up sitting at a barstool with other guests and employees serving as spectators.

Like the last post, this one has a similiar lesson or moral to the story if you shall.
If it isn't polite, keep it to yourself. Be aware of your surroundings, and whom you may offend.
If anything else, it can at least wait until you get out to your car.


Keep Calm & Get Your Freak On (in the privacy of your own home)


-LM

Photo Credit:www.hatersink.spreadshirt.com
"Why You Should Love Public Displays of Affection"- www.themodernman.com
 www.sodahead.com
"Public Display of Affection"- www.lovefromana.com
"Relationship Advice: I don't like PDAs"- www.gurl.com