My Random Blog

Tonight I had the joy of waiting on the most ridiculous woman I’ve seen in a while. And being that I’m fighting off a cold, I wasn’t able to put on my shiny face and hide my disdain for her. Not that she was smart enough to know what my problem was with her anyway.

Seated at a booth with her husband, she proceeded to stretch out her nasty, bare legs across the bench seat and sit with her back to the wall. A grown ass woman in a sit-down restaurant. Then she hopped on her cell phone and never stopped yapping into it. Not even when her food was in front of her. Her poor husband just sat there staring at his plate and eating quietly, like he was alone at the table.

How fucking low class can a person be? Restaurants are NOT your living rooms, people. Putting your feet up and blabbing into your phone is not acceptable restaurant behavior. If you don’t know this, you need to stick to drive-throughs and taco stands.

Peace and READ THIS.

P.S. This is my 100th post.

It’s late Saturday night/Sunday morning (California time) and I just got home from work.

Tonight was attack of the prom-bound teenagers. I don’t know how I keep forgetting the madness that prom season brings, but after tonight I’m guessing that I just black it out once it’s over. It’s like Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day; pure chaos. I walked into madness and it didn’t end for hours. My aching feet, are very happy to be home.

Sunday (technically, “today”) is my Friday and I plan to party like it’s 1999. I’m a breaker, so my shift will be easy and short. I’m planning on grabbing bff after work and, instead of going to the usual place, heading out to new spots to see what we can see. I feel like I’ve been fishing in a small pond, and now it’s time to move into new- and bigger- waters.

Hope y’all had a good weekend. Me and my hangover will be back tomorrow. Woo Hoo!

Peace and better fishing.

So tonight at work was the usual… I actually had a very good night and a lot of laughs with co-workers who, well, make me laugh. However, working a Saturday night, in a place that has booze in it, almost always guarantees something random will happen. And it did. I give you: Drunk Woman and Beat Down Husband.

Drunk Woman, towards the end of her evening, thought it was a good idea to wander from table to table trying to take drinks from people (so that she, herself, could drink them). She also thought it was a good idea to try and make drunk-conversation with the poor people at those tables. Her opening line was something to the effect of, (drunk, slurred speech) “Have you ever been married?” The poor people would answer one way or another and she’d launch into how HER husband will never leave her. (Did I mention that he was following, sheepishly behind her, during all this?) She kept looking back to him and drunkenly boasting, “He’ll never leave ME.” To which Beat Down Husband said nothing. It got so bad that the manager had to call the police because she would not listen to reason, or leave. And it was painfully obvious that her husband had zero control over her. But while the cops were en route…

Drunk Woman sat herself at the bar, next to a single man who was sitting alone. He proceeded to buy her shots while Beat Down Husband stood, quietly, behind his wife’s bar stool, and watched. At one point, he did, meekly, ask her to leave with him, but she just yelled something about wanting a divorce.

Beat Down Husband then goes to a phone to call someone. (Cab? Friend? Intervention?) and THEN Drunk Woman starts walking out the front door with her new bar friend. Her husband/whipping boy sees this and what does he do? Walks out BEHIND them, without saying a word. She gets in the car with her new friend and her husband is left alone, in the parking lot. Are you KIDDING me?? And that’s all I knew until I left and saw the 3 amigos talking with the police, in the parking lot.

Wow. I can’t even wrap my brain around what that husband’s life must be like on a daily basis. That woman actually made Britney Spears look perfectly normal. And while I like to tie one on, myself, on occasion (about once a week, actually), I have never gotten the urge to up my cootie quotient by consuming the drinks of strangers, nor have I ever thought it would be fun to make the man in my life look like he kept his balls in my purse. I am guilty, however, of starting drunken conversations with people. The exception being that they are also drunk and are happy to participate.

So if I’m drunk in public, and I run into you, I will not steal your drink or pull my boyfriend’s manhood out of my purse (it’s not in there anyway). I will, however, talk to you about nothing in particular, buy you a shot and laugh hysterically.

For some reason, this month has produced the most scorching case of PMS I’ve had in years. (If you’re male, you might wanna stop reading this now.) It has turned me into the meanest person I know. Even though most of my friends already think I’m the meanest person they know… I like to think I’ve mellowed out a LOT. Because I have. But this last week… I’ve been a huge jerk.

Last night at work, a male co-worker and I got into an argument. He was in my way, when I was trying to get something done (he should have been doing his business somewhere else) and I wasn’t havin’ it. I was rude, he was rude, we verbally sparred and then he said something about slapping me. I don’t handle comments like that very well on a day when I’m NOT hormonally insane. But being hormonally insane caused my brain to do this little snapping thing and my vision to darken. I didn’t hit him, or scream, but I unleashed a verbal nastiness that was totally uncalled for. We ended up making up later, but still… he was just trying to piss me off and, knowing him like I do, I should not have reacted that way. (He wouldn’t hit a flea.)

Tonight, at work again, I got into another spat with another (female this time) co-worker. Something stupid happened, I had a silly reaction to it and she had a problem with my reaction and said something to that effect. I was instantly mad and ready to fight. So I called her on it and she said something to the effect that she was already in a bad mood and I wasn’t helping. So I said, “Well don’t take that shit out on ME. It’s not MY fault you’re in a bad mood.” and I left the area. I’m assuming this exchange upset her, but I wasn’t around to see or hear her response- if she had one.

The next time we crossed paths, she was smiling and trying to say something to me but I glared at her, told her not to speak to me and kept on walking past her. She avoided me a little bit after that but we crossed paths again, a few minutes later, and her eyes were watery and she looked like someone had just run over her puppy. So I grabbed her arm, turned her towards me and apologized. She started breaking down right there, so I hugged her and explained that it’s not her fault that I’m a jerk. And I FELT like a huge one.

Wtf? Does this condition worsen as we age? I thought it was supposed to get better. I don’t remember PMS making me this volatile in my 20’s. It’s kind of freaking me out a little bit. That little snapping thing? With the darkening vision thing? That’s usually reserved for when I am hysterically pissed off and about to unleash something painful. It is not my usual reaction to minor work conflicts.

So that’s today’s post: I’m a jerk. But hopefully, having written it out… I can get a better grip, and put things in perspective before I open my mouth. And maybe I’ll start taking Midol.

Just got home from work and am already dreading having to go back tomorrow. However, I was in a super good mood for 90% of my shift and happily observing everything around me. So here are my Shout-Outs to the people who made my night a little more interesting…16 year old girl with an iPhone. There’s just no excuse for that. AND you had a pink case on it, very similar to the one I was so happy about the other day. You walked in poking at it and left it on your tiny table all night for everyone to witness. Good for you, little girl- you’re officially spoiled! Oh wait… I didn’t pay for mine either. High five!

Twenty-something Latina in a black strapless dress with a RED, lacy, strapped bra. The top of your dress covered about half of your bra. Are you kidding me? In what fashion nightmare is that a “do”? Being half Mexican myself- I was doubly ashamed. And shame on your friends for letting you out in public that way. On the bright side: I actually started laughing, out loud, when I saw you.

Young early-twenties guy who asked to be moved to a larger table. That wasn’t the fun part. The fun part was you sticking your legs out into the (VERY narrow) walkway, as if they would not fit under the table you were at. They fit, and we both knew they fit. But what fun would it be, walking with armfuls of hot, heavy plates, if I didn’t have to also get around your giant white (untied) sneakers? You rock.

Jackass who, when my co-worker was in your path and said “Excuse me”, replied with: “Yeah, get out of our way!” I wish you the crotch fleas of a thousand dirty camels. Or syphilis. Whichever gets to you faster.

Creepy old man who kept staring at me every time I walked into the bar area. I made the mistake of making eye contact once and you actually licked your chapped, crusty lips. I threw up in my mouth a little. Thanks for that.

Super nice lady with one half of your leg in a cast. You and your dining companions were very fun to talk to. Thank you for not taking me out with your rolling-walker-thing. I have a knack for getting in the way of disabled people.

So thank you, random people, for not only making my night interesting, but giving me something to blog about before bed.

Peace out and goodnight!

I got home from work a little while ago and am so glad to be home, in my PJs and having nothing to do but this. We were pretty busy for a while there tonight and I thought at one point I might just go down in flames, but I didn’t. And thank you, Rachael, for helping me out right before I started yanking out big clumps of hair.

The only real surprise of the night was after I delivered food to an old man, dining alone. I saw that he didn’t have any utensils, so I went to get him some. I dropped off the silverware just as his his server was stopping by to check on him and I heard him ask her for napkins. I happened to be right near some, so I grabbed a few and went right back to his table with them. As I was setting them down, he told me again that he needed napkins. Being that the table was about one foot by one foot in size and he couldn’t possible have not seen me put several LARGE napkins down right in front of him, I thought perhaps I misheard him. So I asked him again, clearly, “What did you need?” To which he YELLED, “Napkins!!” Ummm… Yeah.So I picked one up from the pile in front of him and said, politely, “This is a napkin.” Then he put this really scowly face on, crossed his arms and stared at me. I wasn’t sure what my next move should be, so I just smiled and walked away from the table, wondering what the hell just happened there.

If your doctor prescribes you medications, you should take them. I’m just sayin’.