~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
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