so so sleepy
Nov. 14th, 2005 10:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7Man. I so tired.
Also stuffed.
Got to work. Was hauled in for half-hour consultation with HR because I am, get this, involved in a [highly confidential-- don't tell anybody I told you] sexual harassment scandal. Oh yes. This is exceedingly entertaining, not least because of the way the HR lady's jowls wobbled as she shrieked that I could face termination for this.
And when she read over the harassment policy to me, she was so illiterate that she actually got half the words wrong, like saying "interfaces" for "interferes", and the like. And it was only because I was annoyed at being kept from doing my job for this half an hour that I was able to nod and say "uh-huh" at appropriate times instead of laughing.
I have to admit, I kind of hope they fire me. It'd be an awesome story for cocktail parties. As it is, I'll tell the incident behind a friends-lock, since it's a Pending Investigation. But it wouldn't be funny, except for all the hullabaloo madame HR lady de la Jowly Jowls is making of it.
(At this point I'm kind of hoping they'll find this blog and Dooce my ass. God, wouldn't that be novel? Office ladies, they make skincare products that could take care of that moustache for you. And Ubermanager, you can suck my cock.)
Then I tried to buy change, and the other office lady totally lost her shit and flipped out at me and said 'That's it! we're putting a notice in the paychecks next week! people have to get change at night!'
And then she refused to give me any $1 bills. I mean, come on. Seriously. Come the fuck on. What the fuck am I supposed to do without ones?
This job is a fucking farce.
Anyhow. Then suddenly the senior cocktail waitress was sent home, so I wound up working Busy Bar solo for eight hours. It kind of ruled. I made assloads of money. Well, not exactly assloads. But more than I would have at Torture Bar, you can bet your ass. And I had managed to con two other bartenders into selling me $1 bills, so I made it out ok.
I also was tired enough, and everyone knew I was tired enough, that nobody fucked with me. Well, except the office ladies, but whatever-- that's kind of what they do. Jowly jowly moustachey horribles. Urgh.
But yes-- I didn't do any dishes, and nobody called me on it, and I flipped out at Crazy Bartender Woman, and totally got away with it... But this time, I didn't cut anybody with broken glass, which is just too bad. I totally could have gotten away with that. It's a pity Office Ladies never come out on the floor, esp not when it's busy, because I think it would totally rule to hit one of them with a broken bottle and be all, "oops!"
Actually I lie. I have never actually cut someone on purpose. I do wish I were a badass.
And I had two other coworkers today say that I was awesome to work with and was, like, their favorite person. Which is actually a really sweet thing to know. I keep getting in trouble for Corporate Bullshit type-things, but actually, I am quite a good waitress and also an excellent coworker. So maybe they'll fire my ass, but at least this time I don't have to be insecure that it's because I was actually a poor employee. I must say, given my general low self-esteem, it's been nice.
So I got home (my commute home was marked by my running a very yellow light, and then yelling "Blow me!" at the next yellow light and speeding through that one too) and Z said, I take you out to Irish pub for stout and food! And I gave it precisely half a second's thought, and then said "Yay!" and we drove off to Shannon Pub on the Boulevard, where I drank Murphy's, and then had a Rusty Nail, which is Drambuie and Scotch, and is actually fuckin' awesome and I will be drinking more of those in future. I also had lamb stew, which was good. And I sang along with all the Clancy Brothers on their jukebox. I'm a drunken sap for Clancy Brothers.
Z decided he needed to be in a band that did punk covers of sea shanties. I asked if I could be in it, if I dressed up like a sexy girl pirate and also did all the music research, and he said ok*. So we're waiting to hear back from his old bandmates. He's even got a good name picked out. But I think it's a secret so I won't reveal it yet. I will keep y'all posted on this.
Anyhooo... I am going to go to bed and sleep for eight hours AT LEAST and then I am NOT GOING TO GET UP TOMORROW HA HA HA HA!!!!
____________
*Z has previously broken my heart by saying that girlfriends can never be in bands. See, I loathe being segregated from 'the boys' and put into a separate box. Boys, don't do that. That's stupid.
Also stuffed.
Got to work. Was hauled in for half-hour consultation with HR because I am, get this, involved in a [highly confidential-- don't tell anybody I told you] sexual harassment scandal. Oh yes. This is exceedingly entertaining, not least because of the way the HR lady's jowls wobbled as she shrieked that I could face termination for this.
And when she read over the harassment policy to me, she was so illiterate that she actually got half the words wrong, like saying "interfaces" for "interferes", and the like. And it was only because I was annoyed at being kept from doing my job for this half an hour that I was able to nod and say "uh-huh" at appropriate times instead of laughing.
I have to admit, I kind of hope they fire me. It'd be an awesome story for cocktail parties. As it is, I'll tell the incident behind a friends-lock, since it's a Pending Investigation. But it wouldn't be funny, except for all the hullabaloo madame HR lady de la Jowly Jowls is making of it.
(At this point I'm kind of hoping they'll find this blog and Dooce my ass. God, wouldn't that be novel? Office ladies, they make skincare products that could take care of that moustache for you. And Ubermanager, you can suck my cock.)
Then I tried to buy change, and the other office lady totally lost her shit and flipped out at me and said 'That's it! we're putting a notice in the paychecks next week! people have to get change at night!'
And then she refused to give me any $1 bills. I mean, come on. Seriously. Come the fuck on. What the fuck am I supposed to do without ones?
This job is a fucking farce.
Anyhow. Then suddenly the senior cocktail waitress was sent home, so I wound up working Busy Bar solo for eight hours. It kind of ruled. I made assloads of money. Well, not exactly assloads. But more than I would have at Torture Bar, you can bet your ass. And I had managed to con two other bartenders into selling me $1 bills, so I made it out ok.
I also was tired enough, and everyone knew I was tired enough, that nobody fucked with me. Well, except the office ladies, but whatever-- that's kind of what they do. Jowly jowly moustachey horribles. Urgh.
But yes-- I didn't do any dishes, and nobody called me on it, and I flipped out at Crazy Bartender Woman, and totally got away with it... But this time, I didn't cut anybody with broken glass, which is just too bad. I totally could have gotten away with that. It's a pity Office Ladies never come out on the floor, esp not when it's busy, because I think it would totally rule to hit one of them with a broken bottle and be all, "oops!"
Actually I lie. I have never actually cut someone on purpose. I do wish I were a badass.
And I had two other coworkers today say that I was awesome to work with and was, like, their favorite person. Which is actually a really sweet thing to know. I keep getting in trouble for Corporate Bullshit type-things, but actually, I am quite a good waitress and also an excellent coworker. So maybe they'll fire my ass, but at least this time I don't have to be insecure that it's because I was actually a poor employee. I must say, given my general low self-esteem, it's been nice.
So I got home (my commute home was marked by my running a very yellow light, and then yelling "Blow me!" at the next yellow light and speeding through that one too) and Z said, I take you out to Irish pub for stout and food! And I gave it precisely half a second's thought, and then said "Yay!" and we drove off to Shannon Pub on the Boulevard, where I drank Murphy's, and then had a Rusty Nail, which is Drambuie and Scotch, and is actually fuckin' awesome and I will be drinking more of those in future. I also had lamb stew, which was good. And I sang along with all the Clancy Brothers on their jukebox. I'm a drunken sap for Clancy Brothers.
Z decided he needed to be in a band that did punk covers of sea shanties. I asked if I could be in it, if I dressed up like a sexy girl pirate and also did all the music research, and he said ok*. So we're waiting to hear back from his old bandmates. He's even got a good name picked out. But I think it's a secret so I won't reveal it yet. I will keep y'all posted on this.
Anyhooo... I am going to go to bed and sleep for eight hours AT LEAST and then I am NOT GOING TO GET UP TOMORROW HA HA HA HA!!!!
____________
*Z has previously broken my heart by saying that girlfriends can never be in bands. See, I loathe being segregated from 'the boys' and put into a separate box. Boys, don't do that. That's stupid.
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no subject
Date: 2005-11-15 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-15 04:57 am (UTC)P.S. Good luck with the band. :)