bartenderbaby

Things I’ve done so far this month: (in no particular order)

 Played Super Mario Bros. (old school) for four hours straight.

Cleaned out all my old pots for new spring plants.

Fell off the no red meat wagon.

Sang Crazy Rap by Afro-man on Karaoke night.

Ate three boxes of girl scout cookies.

Saved a worm from an untimely death at the hand, or shoe, of a 3 year old (Who was convinced it was a snake.)

I think that’s pretty much it. It’s been a rather uneventful month, hence the lack of blogs to entertain you, my faithful reader.

Sometimes, I just rant to rant. It lets me get some steam out, because nobody wants to hear people complain in person. Just because I say a conservative was an asshole to me, it doesn’t mean I hate all conservatives. Same goes for smokers, freaks, and hoes.

This blog is my outlet and own personal form of therapy. It works for me, and when I’m ranting about one person or another I never use names…because I’m not a bitch. (and also, because I don’t have the kind of mug that can take a hit and make it look cool. That’s my money maker, I can’t be pissing people off and showing up at work looking like Rhianna, you know what I’m saying?) 

 If you’re lucky enough to know about my writing,  just appreciate that. If you piss me off, then you should fully expect to be anonymously trashed on the internet. That is the advantage of blogging. If you don’t like it, write a blog about how much of a dick this girl you know is….and then let it go.

So I walk into work the other day only to be greeted by yet another drunk, ridiculous, redneck and his “Obama’s taking our rights away” notions. So I voice my opinion (which favors more on the democratic side) and he says that he’s leaving. “I didn’t come in here to listen to this crap.” So I tell him goodbye and thanks for coming in. (my reply, while polite, was actually layered thickly with sarcasm…imagine that)

Now his equally intoxicated lady friend (and I use the term lady loosely) steps in and says to me, or slurs really, “Are you stupid?” Which, coming from this woman caught me completely by surprise. I ignored her but she continues on to say “Yer the rudest waitress I ever had, you fat f***ing cow.” I tell her it’s time to go. We argue a little before she finally pulls herself out of her seat only to reveal a Nascar t-shirt paired with the tightest, whitewashed, high-waisted jeans I have seen since 1987.

They stumble to the door, she turns around, scowls at me for a second, and then flicks me off with both hands… I waved and said “Have a nice night!” Just as she was pulled out the front door.

This is really the only part of the job I absolutely hate. Why can’t everyone just go out and have a good time? What is it about alcohol that makes some people think it’s OK to behave like an asshole? And most importantly, what would make a middle aged woman think it’s OK to wear the same jeans she wore, back when she still lived in her momma’s trailer?