job update
Apr. 12th, 2007 08:43 amSo I went downtown. (It's not a strip club yet. And I just noticed I forgot to write that I was planning on bartending at said strip joint, not dancing-- Hooters I got, but I cannot dance. The strip joint upstairs is opening in a while-- just waiting on liquor license.)
I went after work last night. (The other 2:00 worker, I might mention, came in two hours late and left two hours early, while I worked the entire 8 hour shift and punched out with one minute of overtime. Possibly caused by my zoning out in exhaustion and staring at the time clock trying to work out whether it had been eight hours. I forgot my knee braces and intermittent sciatic nerve pain tormented me all day. It's hard to focus when something's stabbing you in the hip.)
So Z picked me up after work and we went downtown. The bartender greeted us-- I think he's forgotten our names, but then, we only show up every couple months-- that's what "regulars" means to stay-at-homes like us. We show up, have really weird conversations, run up modest tabs, tip excessively, and then vanish into the sunset. We chatted.
The owner came in. He recognized me immediately. "Have you come to your senses yet?" he asked. "Are you coming to work for me?"
"I actually came to ask you about just that," I answered. He laughed, and moved on, talking about that night's plan to the bartender, then prepared to go back out. (There was a major concert going on across the street and they were evaluating what the aftercrowd would be like.)
On his way out he put a yellow sheet of notepaper in front of me, and his card. I unfolded the sheet of paper. It had a schedule on it. Four days. And then the phrase "+ Hockey Games" underlined three times.
Hmm.
I went after work last night. (The other 2:00 worker, I might mention, came in two hours late and left two hours early, while I worked the entire 8 hour shift and punched out with one minute of overtime. Possibly caused by my zoning out in exhaustion and staring at the time clock trying to work out whether it had been eight hours. I forgot my knee braces and intermittent sciatic nerve pain tormented me all day. It's hard to focus when something's stabbing you in the hip.)
So Z picked me up after work and we went downtown. The bartender greeted us-- I think he's forgotten our names, but then, we only show up every couple months-- that's what "regulars" means to stay-at-homes like us. We show up, have really weird conversations, run up modest tabs, tip excessively, and then vanish into the sunset. We chatted.
The owner came in. He recognized me immediately. "Have you come to your senses yet?" he asked. "Are you coming to work for me?"
"I actually came to ask you about just that," I answered. He laughed, and moved on, talking about that night's plan to the bartender, then prepared to go back out. (There was a major concert going on across the street and they were evaluating what the aftercrowd would be like.)
On his way out he put a yellow sheet of notepaper in front of me, and his card. I unfolded the sheet of paper. It had a schedule on it. Four days. And then the phrase "+ Hockey Games" underlined three times.
Hmm.