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whirrr-crunch-crunch-grind-CHUNK
Oct. 5th, 2006 08:21 amNice and loud out this morning. I never know who's earthmoving the next block over but they never fail to do it. Ahh, nice and refreshing morning.
My impromptu not-poll of pictures is generating some hot controversy. Perhaps I should post higher-quality photos. I took those hastily in a dusty mirror. But then, maybe I should just seek the advice of someone who can see me in real life. There's a bit of a shortage of that around here, though.
*pokes Z, who turns over and grumbles, "Boobs."*
None of that counts toward the picture meme but I promise I'll get a start on those soon. I've just proved that I can take and post pictures relatively quickly, eh? ;)
Yesterday I wound up having to walk over to Colvin Ave and catch the 11 downtown to Virginia St., whence I walked to Z's office, dropped off his lunch which he had forgotten to pack (I asked if he wanted to go grab lunch with me and he said he was busy. I asked if he wanted to go out and grab us both lunch and we could eat it quickly. He said he was busy. I've no idea how he was planning to get himself lunch, so I brought him one.) and stole his car. It took me slightly less time than just having taken the 30 bus to the airport and sat around for 2 hours would have, but it also got me soaking sopping wet because it rained the whole time I was walking (and did not rain the whole time I was standing in the bus shelter or riding the bus).
I had forgotten: it's Canadian Thanksgiving. The airport is flooded with massive numbers of bargain-hunters who say "eh?" a lot and think that $2 is perfectly generous on a $45 tab which they ordered one drink at a time as you asked, "Anything else? No?" and went to get each individual item, whereupon they would order another upon your return. So basically you're a human yo-yo making minimum wage.
Yesterday my two co-workers and I (Senior Cocktail Waitress and I work together 3 days a week; Fired Woman has been replaced with Happy-Go-Lucky Fella who I like a great deal more than I did when I gave him that name) decided that we were going to borrow a video camera, go to Canada, run up huge tabs and tip poorly, and make a movie out of it. It'd be a huge hit on the Internet. (We'll start off with interviews of all our coworkers recounting their very favorite shitty-tipper stories from this week.)
I apologize in advance to any Canadians on my friends list. I will hereby make my standard disclaimer: I understand that the Canadians who fly through the Buffalo Airport are not really representative of all Canadians. They are pre-selected to be the cheap type by the fact that many of them are willing to drive 3+ hours and risk a long border crossing just in order to save $50 on their fares by flying from within the US. The type of Canadians who tip their servers well are probably also likely to be willing to pay the extra few bucks to save a couple hours of driving by just flying out of Pearson or whatever their local airport is.
And, that said, the ones who burned the shit out of me yesterday (left me loose change on a $50 tab) were Australians, and I had expected it. (I was back behind the bar pouring their drinks and saying, in a crude mockery of their accent immediately comprehensible to my coworkers as what it was, "G'day from the land of the two-percent tip!" Yes we know that in their country bartenders aren't tipped, but how is it so much more common for Japanese who speak no English to bother to study the culture of the country they are visiting and leave you a dollar than it is for Aussies to do so? I have actually never received a reasonable tip from anyone antipodean. Yet I know all about their tipping policy and I've NEVER BEEN THERE. They can't even be bothered to find out before they travel halfway around the world? Well, fuck them right in their ignorant asses, then. Assholes. They drink a lot of spit in this country, I can tell you that. Not firsthand of course.)
My impromptu not-poll of pictures is generating some hot controversy. Perhaps I should post higher-quality photos. I took those hastily in a dusty mirror. But then, maybe I should just seek the advice of someone who can see me in real life. There's a bit of a shortage of that around here, though.
*pokes Z, who turns over and grumbles, "Boobs."*
None of that counts toward the picture meme but I promise I'll get a start on those soon. I've just proved that I can take and post pictures relatively quickly, eh? ;)
Yesterday I wound up having to walk over to Colvin Ave and catch the 11 downtown to Virginia St., whence I walked to Z's office, dropped off his lunch which he had forgotten to pack (I asked if he wanted to go grab lunch with me and he said he was busy. I asked if he wanted to go out and grab us both lunch and we could eat it quickly. He said he was busy. I've no idea how he was planning to get himself lunch, so I brought him one.) and stole his car. It took me slightly less time than just having taken the 30 bus to the airport and sat around for 2 hours would have, but it also got me soaking sopping wet because it rained the whole time I was walking (and did not rain the whole time I was standing in the bus shelter or riding the bus).
I had forgotten: it's Canadian Thanksgiving. The airport is flooded with massive numbers of bargain-hunters who say "eh?" a lot and think that $2 is perfectly generous on a $45 tab which they ordered one drink at a time as you asked, "Anything else? No?" and went to get each individual item, whereupon they would order another upon your return. So basically you're a human yo-yo making minimum wage.
Yesterday my two co-workers and I (Senior Cocktail Waitress and I work together 3 days a week; Fired Woman has been replaced with Happy-Go-Lucky Fella who I like a great deal more than I did when I gave him that name) decided that we were going to borrow a video camera, go to Canada, run up huge tabs and tip poorly, and make a movie out of it. It'd be a huge hit on the Internet. (We'll start off with interviews of all our coworkers recounting their very favorite shitty-tipper stories from this week.)
I apologize in advance to any Canadians on my friends list. I will hereby make my standard disclaimer: I understand that the Canadians who fly through the Buffalo Airport are not really representative of all Canadians. They are pre-selected to be the cheap type by the fact that many of them are willing to drive 3+ hours and risk a long border crossing just in order to save $50 on their fares by flying from within the US. The type of Canadians who tip their servers well are probably also likely to be willing to pay the extra few bucks to save a couple hours of driving by just flying out of Pearson or whatever their local airport is.
And, that said, the ones who burned the shit out of me yesterday (left me loose change on a $50 tab) were Australians, and I had expected it. (I was back behind the bar pouring their drinks and saying, in a crude mockery of their accent immediately comprehensible to my coworkers as what it was, "G'day from the land of the two-percent tip!" Yes we know that in their country bartenders aren't tipped, but how is it so much more common for Japanese who speak no English to bother to study the culture of the country they are visiting and leave you a dollar than it is for Aussies to do so? I have actually never received a reasonable tip from anyone antipodean. Yet I know all about their tipping policy and I've NEVER BEEN THERE. They can't even be bothered to find out before they travel halfway around the world? Well, fuck them right in their ignorant asses, then. Assholes. They drink a lot of spit in this country, I can tell you that. Not firsthand of course.)
