Not Your Typical Post

I've learned, crazy enough, you can't find love in a bar.  Funny, right? Douchebags prowling around til closing time, sniffing out the single and just-drunk-enough-to-make-a-bad-decision girls to wrangle home.  At the same token, girls wobbling around in their sky-high stilettos are waiting for a wealthy man to cover their tab and sweep them off their feet.  This has completely bastardized the tradition and idea of dating...this ideology of gold-digging vs. trophy wife mentality.


I only mention this today because I see this all too often in a city such as this.  Too many couples wed for status or money. I wait on plenty who have chosen this philosophy, and honestly it leaves me a little jaded. 

After I left work today, I received a text from a friend.  He just got a new car...what was wrong with the old one?  Absolutely nothing.  He was told, I'm sure by a greasy-ass salesman, that this new car represents success.  Now that he makes X amount per year, he'll now be able to use the flashy ride to help find a good woman to stay at home and take care of him.

What he said was not only frustrating, but found a very deep sense of sadness within me as well.

A man recently said something profound to me, "No matter how many rooms you have in your home, you can only be in one at a time.  Nor does the size of the room matter...when you close your eyes, it's all the same."  Unfortunately not many people here would agree with that statement.  This city-- hell, Oakland County in general, but this city in particular-- prides itself on status, if I don't have to say it a million times. Material possessions, top-shelf products play a part in who you are.  Forget having good morals and a personality.  How heavy is that credit card in your pocket?  Is it metal? Is it black?  Jackpot.  Hello, baby.


I told him, (here's my free therapy as a bartender) using status and things to reel in a woman will only find you one kind--

A gold-digging bitch. Someone you will grow to resent down the line because no one likes a leech.  Someone that will never meet you halfway on anything.  Probably a daddy's girl who will need to be supported in order to be fulfilled as your love is not, and never will be, enough.  For she doesn't love you unconditionally, but regrettably your bank account.  For better or for worse, as long as you are maintaining her wants, needs, yoga classes, botox, shopping sprees and salon appointments, she will love you.  For richer or for poorer is not an option.  The day that happens, she will find another man more able of supporting her.  

 

Look instead , I told him, for someone who prides themselves on family and the basics.  Who won't toss the future children at some nanny.  Someone who has cleaned a damn toilet in her lifetime, because that isn't beneath her.  Someone who has her own ambitions, with substance and character.  A level head on her shoulders, with a sound reasoning aside from the slight ebb and flow craziness that accompanies anything with a vagina.  Bottom line-- you are looking for your best friend-- not some in-the-flesh blow-up doll. 

And if those qualities-- or the lack thereof-- really DO appeal to you, then I feel terribly, incredibly sorry for you. Your best luck is at the strip club.



But what do I know?  I'm just a bartender.
To each their own.

Cheers.

--Malia Etienette

Photo Credit:
Red bottoms- www.elitedaily.com
Odd couple- www.redorbit.com
I Ain't Sayin' She a Gold Digger- www.epicjaws.com
Titty Bar- www.nydailynews.com

The Truth Hurts

When I began college, somewhere along the way I decided on a Communications degree. These days I'm considering that maybe I should have pursued a psychology degree instead.  Small talk at the bar, exchanging friendly banter turns into a full out therapy session-- 86 awkward chaise, SUB heavy dose of booze.



"Bartender," I was unaware, is also code for "secret keeper of the people". Rule of thumb, if you don't want your business out there, do not make it so widely known. You find out more things than you wish you ever knew. Who's got illegal business. Who enjoys the finer offerings of the titty bars. Who dabbles in wheeling, dealing and partaking of drugs. Who's cheating on their spouse. Enough information to make your head spin, and certainly enough to ruin the lives of half the socialites. 

At the end of the day, "bartending" is exhausting, leaving you with a heavy heart, and a conscience that just feels...dirty. Guilty by association.  Of course, as a bartender, one is expected to listen, nod, smile, offer those two glimmering cents worth of advice and then simply let it roll off your back-- out of memory-- in one ear and out the other. 




Unfortunately that is not always the case. Hearing just about everything under the sun, it can weigh on you and keep you up at night.  So what is the code of conduct here?  The wise man said nothing?  Sometimes it makes me wonder. Is honesty the best policy?

It is well known that the "right" thing to do is most often times also the hardest, and obviously the least glamorous thing to do.  You either stand idly by and watch people hurt each other, or you choose to speak up and become the villain-- even the outcast, marked with betrayal.  Those who stick by you are your true friends. 



Recently I was put on the spot. Word travels fast in a town so small...and I, I took the road less traveled by. Has all of that made a difference?  I don't know.  I know I lost a friend, potentially ruined something big for him.  Only time will tell.  I just know that I'm worn out from playing dumb-- because that is something I am most certainly not. I'm also not a good liar.  Never was, and never will be.  

Sometimes the truth hurts. 

"In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway."
-- Mother Teresa

--Malia Etienette

Photo Credit:
Kid on Couch- www.adsoftheworld.com
Gossip- www.cnn.com
Buddha- www.what-buddha-said.net

THAT Couple

A couple waltzed into The White Rabbit, the new establishment I work at.  The newest attraction is a cute, themed boutique restaurant of the hob-nobbing city which draws in multiple demographics, making me a very happy, and not to mention busy, girl behind the bar.

 

The couple stood at the hostess stand, heads together, pouring over a menu.  After what seemed an interminable time, the hostess stomped over and slapped down the two menus on my bar counter for the two to sit, notifying me they were here for drinks and small plates.  As she whipped around to walk back to her podium I caught the look on her face which only could read, 'Your problem now.'

The couple was interesting to say in the least.  I refer to them as a 'Bob and Susan' couple. The woman, perhaps early thirties had dark, shoulder-length hair that was swept to one side and secured with a barrette.  Her red, sweatered-turtleneck was adorned with a simple yet elegant gold necklace, and her complexion was fair.  She was a silver spoon, country club loving, daddy's girl all grown up.  She clearly held the guy's balls in some sort of death grip seeing as how he was catering to her, waiting for her opinion on everything before making even one decision one way or another.  Some call that chivalry.  To that degree? I call it spineless.

 

He was mid-thirties.  Not a bad looking guy at all, but you could tell he was the computer geek of the bunch-- the "nice" guy.  Side parted hair, glasses, argyle sweater vest. He's the push-over kind of guy who lets her pick out his outfit every morning.  She was arguably the prettiest girl he would ever have a chance with, and he was whipped because of it.
You know those kinds of people you'd rather not have to talk to, but it's your job?  That 
would be them.  I cleared my throat and placed down two bev naps, ready to go through the motions.
 
"Good evening you two.  How is everything tonight?"
 
...Nothing.  I got nothing. I raised my brows at the couple and proceeded. "This is our cocktail menu, and on the back of the food is our wine list in case you two are interested.  Let me know if there is anything I could do for you."  I stepped back and allowed the two for a minute to brainstorm.
 
First check back?  Inconclusive.
Second check back?  Inconclusive.
 

The girl was getting irritated. Raising her voice a few decibels, she began talking in a whirlwind of circles going a mile a minute.
 
"Is that what you wanted? A cocktail? I don't know if I like any of the ones that I've seen. But what about a wine? I think I'll have a wine.  That sounds good to me.  Or maybe I'll just get hot tea. Were you hungry? What were you looking at? Let's get an appetizer.  Oh, you want the ahi tuna tartare?  I've already had tuna today. Mmmmm. No. If you want it you can get it, but I'm not hungry anymore.  I think I'll do the tea. Oh, no, that's right I have tea at home.  There's no point in buying tea while we're out if I just have it at home anyway."
 

Seriously?  It's a fucking drink order, not rocket science.  Are you thirsty, and what are you in the mood for.  Complicated, I know.  I set two waters in front of the two, still deliberating.
So what do I do?  I screw around by my cashwrap for a few minutes, penning out the first few lines to this blog because they are already getting on my nerves.  Sensing that they have gotten quiet, I turn to look over my shoulder.  Ready? No.  False alarm.  They have a tongue down each other's  throats.  Funny, I didn't realize there was a game of tonsil hockey on that evening.  I may or may not have let out an audible "ugh" and frankly I don't care if it was.
I turn back to my work and in a few short, but awkwardly long, minutes they are back to sitting with their hands folded neatly in front of them, menus stacked.  My signal has arrived.
 
"I'm so sorry to do this to you," the woman says with a halfway sneer across her face, "I just realized that we are cooking dinner on Tuesday and we need to go grocery shopping."
 
"On Tuesday?  It's Friday," I retorted almost snorting at the horrible attempt of bullshitting a bullshitter.
 

"Yeah, well with the holidays we need to get it done before the market closes."
Yeahhh...there are three 24-hour groceries that are local, and mind you, it was only 5:30 on a Friday.  The grocery stores were no where near closing time, and even if they were, they would still be there tomorrow and the day after that.
 
"Well?  Happy shopping."  What? Honestly, I had nothing else to say to the couple that could neither be polite nor make sense.  What I wanted to say was something along the lines of 'up yours for taking up the middle two seats at my five-seater bar for absolutely nothing' but I resisted the urge.
 

On the way out of the restaurant, a waitress overheard the couple.
"Did you like her attitude? I didn't like her attitude."
"No, not at all, you're right. I didn't like it either."
 
Spectacular. Glad you tarts could finally agree on something. 

-Malia Etienette


Photo Credit:
Follow the White Rabbit- www.hateandanger.wordpress.com
Nerd Couple- www.imgfave.com
Indecisive- www.calbuzz.com
Ecard- www.dailyedge.ie
Liar- www.playbuzz.com
Quote- www.pinterest.com

Cutting the Cord

Everything that glitters inevitably rusts.  We regrettably toss our favorite sweatpants when the elastic decides to give.  A former lover becomes a friend, or whats even less, a stranger.  Family pets grow old and die.  The homes we love grow too small as our family expands and we leave them, although memory-filled, behind.  There are moments in our lives that often confront us with a decision of manning up, and learning to let things go. 
 

The Valley and I had something I would consider as a toxic relationship.  Like the boyfriend your mother always warned you about.  I always came home frazzled after long, ungratifying and unprosperous hours only to have to return bright and early the next day, wary of the events to come that shift. 

If I said The Valley brought nothing positive into my life, then I would be lying.  I learned that I will not tolerate a lack of respect in or out of the workplace.  I may not be a managerial position, but I am also not your lackey.  I learned that accepting shady offers from the ownership to basically whore yourself out to get ahead in life is not only pitiful, but also the smartest idea to turn down.  I learned that moving on sometimes is the best thing to do even though a given situation may be familiar and comfortable.

 

The last day of working at The Valley, I had a special guest at the bar.  His wife, Katrina, and
 he were very interested in knowing about my life.  Funny, I figured.  I gave them a run down
 of where I'm at in this clusterfuck I call my life.  A bartender working all hours in order to catch up, and eventually get ahead.  To one day, sign back up for school.  Finish the last three classes strong, get that piece of paper and move on.  The gentleman applauded my goals, and reminded me something very important-- something I had forgotten in my years of working in a "yes sir, no m'am" black-hole of a service industry (where dreams go to die) that sucks every hope and ambition you have absolutely bone dry-- That only I am in charge of my own happiness. He  told me that if I wasn't truly, undeniably happy with where I was at, to do something about it, and for the better.  He and his wife paid the $70 tab with $500 and left the rest for me to put towards school.  That was the cushion I needed to finally uproot, re-enroll and march on.

 

 Upon leaving work, I filled out an application elsewhere before heading home.  Determined, and for the first time in a long time, focused, I sat down in front of this very computer and tapped out an email to Wulf.  Leaving out things better left unsaid that would never be understood anyway, like my feelings about him and the practices of the restaurant that I do not agree with,  I finally pulled the trigger after months of wanting to.  This is the email which was sent:

Wulf,

For the past several years you have employed me at the restaurant, I have come to work and done well.  The core staff functioned well as a team, and everyone seemed to be happy.  Life at work seemed to flow.

Since January, there have been changes made to better the overall well-being of The Valley.  I have done my best to power through and accept all adjustments.  There are however some aspects that have manifested over time which I do not see eye-to-eye with.  I could sit here and jot down bullets of my qualms, but at the end of the day it is merely a list, not a 
resolution.  Consequently, I am unhappy in a workplace and my income has suffered as a direct result in turn.

I have been taught that if I do not like a situation, to not sit and complain but actually do something proactive about it.  As it has been said, "only you are in charge of your own happiness."  My goal since joining your staff has been to save up money to return to school.  Since then, I have been running in place, unable to get ahead.  It is imperative that I take the next step to see this through.  Ultimately, I wish to seek employment elsewhere.

I do thank you for your generosity which you have bestowed, the time you have invested in me, and allowing me to help serve your business.  I do hope for your understanding on the matter.  Please consider this my letter of resignation.

xx


It's no surprise to me that I never heard a work back after sending that to the old boss.
Happy trails, Wulf and company.

Shit, or get off the pot.  Whatever it was, I'd reached my breaking point.  I was done. It was time to cut the cord. Torii and Katrina Hunter, this is to you. For not only giving wonderful advice, but following your own as well.  Life is too short to be stressed, to be miserable, to be keeping your head just above water-- Life is too short to be anything but happy, so stand up and be true to yourself. 


--Malia Etienette







Photo Credit:
Moving on- www.diamondindasky.com
Banksy change- www.prince2.ca
Sunshine- www.beingbaileyj.com
Quit- www.zrdavis.com