Monday, July 28, 2014

IDEFK

     I have a poll up for the two title ideas for my nameless upcoming series. Please vote now, since the poll ends very soon.

     Please enjoy this conversation, that started off with my mom telling me that she texted her stepdad (my grandpa) Happy Father's Day.


P.S. The title of this post, IDEFK, means "I don't even fucking know", because I just don't.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

I Have A Work Question

     I have a question for ya'll.

     We had a meeting where I work as a server and there was a bit of a debate. Feel free not to side with me if you think that I'm wrong. Feel free to side with me if you think I'm right. I just want your opinions so I know how I can do my job the best that I can and make good tips.

     What happened, was that hostess said that there are a lot of issues with accidentally seating somebody more than once if a guest comes in and picks a section or table they want to sit at, when the server in charge of that table was just sat. (Don't do this. It fucks everyone up. Seriously. Just sit where you're told.) Then servers get mad because they end up "in the weeds", which basically means that they're trying to get everything done at the exact same time for the tables and they can't catch up.

     I said, "Once you get behind, it's hard to catch up until all of the tables are cashed out." The manager looked at me and asked why that was, so I explained. "If you're sat with two tables, you have to get everything done at the exact same time as well as take care of whatever tables you already have. It feels like you're playing catch up and that you don't have time for anything else, when you're also trying to keep up with side work and helping out the servers around you."

     A server said, "That's why we ask for help. Or rather, why we should. Most people don't until it's too late and they can't catch up."

     I completely agree with that. I'm bad at asking for help. Usually, I just pre-bus a table and ask somebody to take the dishes on their way back if they have empty hands or ask for bread to be run out. Very few times have I asked for anything else. It's something that I do know that I need to work on because sometimes, I just don't have enough arms.

     "I agree. But we should always do our best to be at the table ourselves. We want to be remembered. Getting our name out there means people might want us and to sit in our section if they see us again." I pointed out.

     The server agreed but then added, "But let's say that you're at a restaurant. Jose takes you to your table and gets your drink order. Bob brings out your drinks and bread. Jose takes your food order. Susie brings out your appetizer and makes sure you have what you need and refills your drinks. Lucy brings out your food. Oh you want ketchup? No problem, she brings it out. Jose checks back and sees if you want desert and your check, then you pay and leave. That's four people but you have what you need when you need it."

     "I agree with speedy service but at the same time, coming from a customer point of view before I ever became a server, I had that happen and wondered where my server was. I understood they were busy but I wanted to know why they were so busy that I only saw them three or four times." I replied.

     The manager and server looked at me like I was stupid.

     "So you're saying that if you have to ring in an order that takes two minutes, but your table needs ketchup, you would make them wait?"

     "No. I would ask somebody to bring it out, but I should have brought it out before their meal even arrived. But I should be the one at the table as much as possible." I replied.

     The manager still didn't seem to fully agree with where I was coming from, even if he understood. "Greeting the table, getting drinks, taking the order, and cashing out. Those are the four major times that a server should be at the table. Everything else is just fluff and doesn't really matter as much."

     I agree that the rest is not as big of a deal, but I still believe that I should do everything I can to be at the table. Do I need somebody to bring ketchup or bread out for me? If so, then please do, but I would hope that I could just get a tray and use it to get whatever I need to all of my tables in one trip.

     That can't always happen if I also have four salads and a pitcher of tea in my hands, but I should at least make sure that I try. And if I can't, I ask somebody else for help, but 99% of the time, they don't have time and it ends up being "I'll have that right out for you".

     So far, my tables seem to understand when I just don't have enough arms to carry 2 salads, drinks for 3, ketchup, a book with a check in it, and bread. Only the drinks and bread went to the same table. Seriously, that was one trip out of the kitchen a few weeks ago. I had six tables at once and nobody was around to ask so I did it myself and told 4/6 tables, "I'll be right back with a pitcher to fill up your glass".

     Now I would like you to weigh in. Have you worked in a restaurant? What is your opinion? Would you prefer to see your server more for the "fluff" or have a constant stream of people taking care of you instead? Another opinion? Because seriously, I do want to know so I can do a good job.


P.S. I have the poll up for naming the upcoming series that I plan on starting next month. Please vote for your favorite title!

Friday, July 11, 2014

Two Years

     This is going to be a sappy post. Proceed with caution.

     Two years ago today, Wolfy asked me to be his girlfriend. We were living 1686 miles apart (according to Mapquest), he was seven years older than me, and my family is full of jerks who would find a flaw if I managed to solve world hunger. We had been friends, best friends, for nearly two years at that point. I already loved him, so of course you can guess my answer (or you know it, or you read the title...)

     In the two years that we were friends, he kept me sane and got me through some of the darkest times in my life, without even knowing it until later. He made me laugh and he reminded me that there was something to be hopeful for, that things can get better. He made me realize that if I didn't keep fighting to get to the light at the end of the tunnel, then there was somebody out there who would miss me.

     He was the person that I talked to about different ideas, about school, about work, about problems with my family. Sure, I had Brother and Sissi, but this was an entirely different relationship and it meant that I was being supported by somebody who wasn't related or "related" to me.

     After we got together, he only continued to make me more and more happy. Everything he had done before increased by a hundred.

     In my family, there is a history of friendship turning into relationships/living together/marriage that then turns into abuse, adultery, lying, betrayal, and those involved being damaged for years. I've always been terrified of that, but Wolfy said that he would prove it wrong. He would be the person to prove that not all relationships have to be like that and that I would never have anything to be scared of with him. I've been living with him since last November 17th, almost 8 months now, and he's kept his word. He's proven my family history wrong and has never given me a single reason to think that he would go back on his word.

     I get angry, bitchy, sarcastic, emotional, even mean at times. I am certainly not the easiest person to get along with, much less live with. I joke about how people must be crazy to put up with me as a friend, but I'm actually amazed that I've been his girlfriend for two years.

     He's sweet, thoughtful, intelligent, romantic, funny, and kind. (And cute. I was talking about non-physical qualities, but whatever, he's a good looking guy and deserves to be told. By me or his family. Other girls can just back the fuck off.)

     While I'm being moody, he's always cheering me up. He goes out of his way to make me laugh, to make me smile, to make sure that I'm taking care of myself. He's always putting me before himself. When I was sunburned earlier this year, he was taking care of me, even though he was sick with fevers. Then a few weeks later, he took care of me again when I was sick with fevers.

     I never thought I would be lucky enough to find somebody like him and I question why, out of everyone else in the world, I get to be that lucky person. I don't have an answer, but I damn sure won't forget it or take it for granted. I'm too thankful to have him in my life and I'm too thankful that we've made it two years together.

     Happy anniversary.

P.S. To my mom's friend who yelled at me for moving for an hour and told me that I would be back with my mom in a month, fuck you. I told you that you were wrong and I have never been more happy to prove that to somebody.

Monday, July 7, 2014

The Concert

     Let me tell you the story of my first concert.

     About a month and a half before I left for Arizona, I was driving home from the Italian restaurant I used to work at. On the radio, I heard something about a concert coming to town. I listened closely. It was one of my top three favorite bands. It was coming to town. Tickets were still for sale. It was within driving distance. I spent the whole day freaking out.

     The next day, I was asking everyone that I worked with, if they had plans. One girl, who shall be referred to as The Princess wanted to go but she had to work and go to class early the next morning. There were a few people that I could ask, but I didn't trust that they wouldn't get shitfaced while there. I asked around. The Princess helped me ask around. Then, I remembered having a conversation about music with a girl that we'll call Psychedelic Girl. Because she loves rainbows, flowers, bright colors and totally nothing illegal...

     "Hey, do you like Three Days Grace?"

     "I love them. They're having a concert down town."

     "I know! Holy shit. Are you free that night?"

     "Yes! I've been trying to find somebody to go with me!"

     "Me too! Let's go. Let's go to that concert."

     That was how it was decided. I bought our tickets the next day (she gave me the cash later, since she doesn't use cards and she didn't have a computer). Then we proceeded to freak out and only talk about that for the entire next week. I didn't care that I was scheduled for three doubles in a row after that and she didn't care that she had to work right up until it was time to leave for the concert. All we cared about was that we were actually going to get to go.

     The night of the concert came and I put my stuff in the car. I asked my mom to make sure that I had everything that I needed. She said yes, so I told her goodnight. Then I left the park and drove down our street. I turned off the street, the exact same turn I had been making ever since I started driving myself to work and the same turn my mom had been making for seven years.

     Cue the police lights.

     I pulled the car over and the cop came up to the window. I'm pretty sure it was one of my mom's friends, but I couldn't place him. He asked me how I was, I told him that I was suddenly nervous. He asked me if I knew what I did wrong, I said no. He said that the turn was apparently illegal, I said oh. He said he would let me off with a warning, I have never felt more relieved. I continued my drive, suddenly wondering if everything my mom told me about driving was a lie and somehow illegal. Every white car was a cop and I was completely paranoid that I was screwing up.

     After the twenty minute drive, I pulled into PG's parking lot and texted her. I called my mom and told her what happened while I waited for her to come out. PG got in the car during the last part of the conversation, only hearing, "So yeah, he let me off with a warning and told me to be careful". Excellent words to hear when you're getting in the car with somebody who's never driven you around before.

     I got off the phone and started driving, while I explained everything to PG. She only looked mildly relieved. I handed her my phone and told her how to use the map app, since her phone was too old to do that. We got all the way downtown, about a forty minute drive, without a single issue. We never even needed to look at the directions. It was easy enough to find the "music hall" (read: night club, those lying bastards) where they were playing. It was also super easy to find the parking garage.

     In the parking garage, the paint was faded and we couldn't figure out which way to go. So, of course, we turned down a dead end, where only police vehicles were allowed to park. It was such a tight fit turning around, that I hit a curb and PG had to get out to direct me. Once we finally got turned around, we went up a couple floors and found a parking space. I shut off the car.

     "Where are the tickets, Rachel?"

     "FUCK."

     I called my mom. "Are the tickets on the dining room table?"

     I waited for an answer. "Yes."

     "Do you think somebody could bring them to us?"

     "No."

     I hung up. "FUCK."

     We left the parking garage and started driving back to my house. It wasn't a very far drive at all. By some miracle, we still didn't need to look at a map or get directions. We got to my house in about fifteen minutes. I left PG in the car, with the words of, "If you see the guy in the wheelchair, lock the doors. He's literally insane." Totally comforting, I'm sure, but it's true. He did try to set his house on fire during a standoff in which he was trying to stab half the cops in the city. No, seriously, that happened.

     As my mom said, the tickets were on the table. I went through the check list of what I needed again and then we left. Tickets, cash, ID, phone, keys. My pride was gone somewhere between getting pulled over and forgetting the tickets, but I didn't think we needed that to actually see the concert.

     We got back downtown and found the music hall fairly easily again. Only this time, we couldn't find the parking garage. It was like it vanished. The problem with downtown, is that every street is one way. It alternates, going this way or that way, but only one way. We drove in circles for fifteen minutes before deciding to park in front of a sign that said no parking after five, but it was close to nine and a ton of cars were there.

     "Fuck it. We're going to be late." She said. "We're not going to find another parking space." She was right. I just hoped I didn't get my mom's car towed.

     After a five minute walk, we got to the music hall and gave them our tickets. They took away my ID and drew big, black X's on each of my hands to signal that I was not old enough to drink. The X's were itchy after they dried, so I didn't appreciate that.

     Instead of trying to get close to the stage, we went up a couple stairs that let us see over the crowd. It wasn't very crowded where we were, since everyone else was more concerned about being close to the band as opposed to actually seeing the show.

     The first band was extremely talented, but PG and I agreed that they weren't our favorite. They were funny and they put on a show, but it was basically all covers. That didn't stop the people that were up on the raised area with us, from going bat shit crazy. Dancing, singing, basically trying to form a moshpit. The worst part is two old people were basically trying to make babies right next to us. Every time they bumped into us, we shared a look of, "Where can we hide their bodies?" because there was no need for them to be so close... or gross.

     Before Three Days Grace even went on, they started making comments like, "Those girls are so lame. They're not dancing or anything." I was fed up so the next time they made a comment about how we were losers, I looked to my friend and loudly said, "You know, if the old guys really want to watch girls dance, they can go to a strip club. I came to see the show, not to be the show."

     They backed off for a while, but around the time Three Days Grace did go on, I felt a hand on my ass. The first time, I assumed it was an accident and even though I was mad, I kept my mouth shut. I told PG and she switched sides with me. The second time it happened, I yelled, "The next time somebody touches me, my fist is swinging back and whoever drops to the ground is going to get my boot in their face". I wasn't touched again.

     The concert itself though, was amazing. Every single song that we hoped to hear, they played, and then some. They interacted with the crowd. They made jokes. They proved that they don't use autotune or computers to have their talent. I loved it. PG loved it. The old people that I threatened to physically harm loved it.

     We left around 11:30 and I ended up buying a t-shirt, just because, why not? It was easy enough to find the car and I let out a sigh of relief that it hadn't been towed. That was when we ran into the next problem.

     On the way out of downtown, we got lost. So lost, that we ended up in a part of the city we had never been to before, ended up passing a police academy thirty minutes out of the way on a fucking mountain, and ended up on the freeway. The worst part, was that we kept passing cops. So. Many. Cops. I kept freaking out because it was all new territory for me, I never drove any of that, and I wasn't sure if I was following all the laws or somehow breaking them.

     Eventually, near 12:30, I got my friend home. I told her goodnight, apologized for all of the issues, and told her I understood if she never wanted to get in the car with me again. I didn't get home until almost one in the morning. Luckily, she lived right behind the place we worked at, so there was little to no chance of me getting lost on the way back home.

     My night wasn't over yet. After I called Wolfy and told him everything that had happened, I noticed that my earring in my left ear cartilage was throbbing. It had been doing that for a while and I wondered if the earring had been too tight when I had gotten it pierced again. I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, and got the bottle of rubbing alcohol ready to make sure I wouldn't get it infected. Then I took the back off the earring.

     Blood came gushing. I grabbed toilet paper and tried to stop it, but it didn't want to stop. I started to get light headed. By the time it stopped, I was a little dizzy and on the way to tell my mom that I needed to go to the hospital. It had finally stopped and I realized that either a vein had been pierced, or the scar tissue from having it pierced again had been what caused it. I don't think the earring was too tight or it was infected. I think the blood was just built up and had to come out. I didn't put the earring back in and it won't be getting pierced again.

     The next day at work, I was so exhausted, that I took my mom's car home at lunch and had a friend drive me to and from work for my night shift. The entire restaurant found the story entertaining and I'm hoping ya'll will too...even though this is the longest post ever.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Three Things

     This is going to be sort of three posts in one, because I planned to write about them all but didn't realize they would all need to be written about in the same time frame.

Topic One- Meet My Friend:

     There is a girl that I work with. Her name is Dura. (Ohmygosh, she has a name, so she must have a blog, right? Yeah, basically.) She's gone to tons of different countries and has done some really incredible things. Even though she's a Christian and stays true to her beliefs, she also rides a motorcycle and isn't afraid to get a random piercing in her nose or lip. She's kind and sweet, but she's also tough, intelligent, and funny.

     Her blog is a Christian blog, but I read it and I really enjoyed it. Even though she discusses her faith and beliefs, she also discusses the amazing things that she's seen and done, as well as things that everyone can improve on. If you're Christian, I can guarantee that you'll love it. If you're not, I still recommend stopping by to look at all of the positive things that she has to say.

     I'm trusting all of you to be kind to her and to only say nice things. I know religion can be a sensitive topic, but there's no reason that there can't be an open discussion about it. Be nice, be respectful, and go say hello. If you missed the first two links, just click right here.

Topic Two- You Won't Believe This:

     I'm sure you all know Kianwi. Formerly of Simply She Goes, now the writer of Writey Daisy. Most of you came to this blog because of her. Anyways, she sent me a laptop. Since she's writing a novel now, she decided that it was time to upgrade her five year old laptop. Her brother didn't need it, so she texted me like, "Hey, do you want my old laptop?"

     For those of you who are new here, I left my old laptop with my mom when I moved because something was wrong with the antivirus. I told her that she could fix it and then we could use it to Skype, but she could also use it to job hunt or whatever else she needed to do. Then, I used my boyfriend's laptop while I was here, until the screen broke. It's not completely useless but it isn't the easiest thing in the world, but it also hurts my back to have to put the chair right up on the TV if they're hooked together. It made it a pain in the butt to do school work, write, blog, or even check my email.

     Kianwi either took pity on me, loves me, or both. Because now I have a laptop, ohmygosh. I would upload pictures but that would require using my phone. I don't have to use my phone for this blog post. Oh. My. Gosh. Thank you, Kianwi. Just, thank you.

Topic Three- Help Please:

     I mentioned before that I have an upcoming series that I'm going to start. I'm going to start it on August 4th and it continue on every other week after that. (I plan on getting back to posting on Mondays and Thursdays again, so it'll be every fourth post or so.)

     It's going to be about controversial topics, topics that need attention, and the like. Each post will end with a link to a charity organization that needs money or attention, plus an invitation for you to post about any charities that suit the topic in the comments, so we can bring as much awareness as possible. I have a list of ideas to post about here and if you suggest any, you will be given full credit for the topic idea.

     All of that being said, I still need your help with one thing before this has even started... I can't think of a name for this series. If I get more than one suggestion by July 8th, one week from now, then I'll actually update the poll on the right side of the page so that it can be voted for. If the poll does go up, it'll stay up until the 30th of this month and the highest number of votes will win. Please, please suggest a name in the comments. I have no idea what to call this series, just that I really want to write it.