I had no energy, I'd left it on the floor at work in a sad, crumpled, dismantled pile. I was spent, a zombie of the day. The rain brought in everyone and their brother today and at maximum capacity, us hostesses, we worked to our limits. An angry customer ranted and raged about scrambled eggs, and even got a little physical with the manager and called our supervisor a dog (which sent him barking the rest of the day ;) I had a to-go order that added up to $124, took 30 minutes to arrange, took 20 pieces of toast, and seven bags to complete. TWENTY PIECES OF SOURDOUGH TOAST. No tip. Nope, none. The women left with their luggage of breakfast, leaving me with a quivering lip and a lump in my throat BECAUSE tips are pretty much my gas money, insurance money, and haircut money. Karma.
As you can probably tell, things were nuts. I let the other two girls eat their employee meals, skipping mine, and waited with a growling stomach until my clock-out time. I was done, happy to have a spaghetti dinner ahead of me. The point:
As I drove, I realized I was the driving dead and so I held down the volume "UP" button and yelled/sang all the words to "Who Knows, Who Cares" People driving near me must have thought I was psychotic. It felt so good and if I were a video game, it would have been a "1 UP!" and I would have become multicolored and been able to do somersaults in the air. Music was all I needed. No food, no words of encouragement, no money- all I needed was to yell at the top of my lungs with my favorite guys. Good'day.
**It's okay work, I still love you...just not today
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