More time to fuck up
I wake up on the couch and locate my phone underneath me to see what time it is..830 something...but what’s this...why has my phone been blown up over the night...6 missed calls, 2 voicemails, 11 texts....what did I miss?
5 missed calls, along with the 2 voicemails are from an 812 number that is not in my phone, what’s up with that? I figure someone just had the wrong number so I listen to the voicemails, half in it half out...the standard, “hey it’s me” starts off the message and I don’t recognize the voice...until the end...oh my god, she fucking called me...the ex fucking called me...listen to the next message...basically the same thing...she wanted to talk me to, she wanted me to call because it was urgent, like seriously important...
it’s funny that I just defended myself the other night against if she were to come back into my life would I get back with her...she may not have said “Jason I love you” or anything close to that, but as she ended the second message, the way the word “K” drunkingly slides off her tongue makes me melt a little...
the texts are not from her, random twitter updates - that mobile update shit is gonna stop - in part as to why I muted my phone last night...how ironic...i muted my phone and then the ex calls...it was probably for the best..
I go back to sleep, but my mind is compiling everything that just happened, so naturally she’s in my dream...i’m not happy nor rested when I wake to my alarm a little bit later.
I arrive at work for my 1030 shift and after thinking it over all morning long I finally send a text to the random number and the ex’s number stating “Hope everything is ok” - I’m a sucker for those I know in need...knight in shining armor syndrome I guess..i’m a softie because I care too much and I’ll do anything I can to make something right...i figured my response was just enough, not too much just a quick sentence, and it’s something so it is more than nothing...i get a response from the unknown number an hour later asking who I was...i tell them that the waste called me from that number last night and I was just replying to her, who is this...never got a response....the kicker would be if it was her new bf’s....
So then there was work...it was dead in the beginning...i just polished wine glasses for the better part of the day...management let two employees on break til 3 and then I was supposed to go..one of them said they would come back at 2 so I could actually get a break...i just wanted a chance to eat or it down..tonight is going to be hell....we are going to do something like 200 covers in 2 hours...our kitchen is going to crash, I know it..
Two o’clock comes and goes...i have a couple tables, but I want to eat....it’s nearing three and the dinner crowd is piling in, getting in the way as I am actually trying to work now that I got three tables in three different parts of the restaurant so I am not weeded, just a little bit hustling....”if you’re not on the clock, get the fuck out of the alley and out of my damn way - get your fucking food and head up to the room like the fucking animals you are!” - I love it when I get mad..and I think people do too...
It’s after three, I see the person who was supposed to relieve me finally walk in the door...cool, pre-shift has already started, I still have tables, and I’m about to get sat for my dinner rotation..fuck my life.
The restaurant fills up quickly, I got three tables I am working, but I’m not weeded like everyone else, in fact, I’m bored...i really don’t feel like helping out tonight though, too tired and I got fucked over, so I slowly meander from place to place, just out of eyeshot from management and those who give the look like they need a swarm or hands...i turn my tables quickly, the hosts are happy, I’m the only person who hasn’t complained to the host team yet so they are grateful with me..
My new turn however does effect me, at first..if I wanted to give my standard service, I would have been in a jam, I start to feel behind, but that quickly dissipates as my tables are trying to go the Colts game..saved, they give me their entire orders as I great them, multiple courses? - great, everything is getting run in at the same time...
It’s 8 and the restaurant is almost empty except for a few scattered tables, obviously oblivious to the game..of course one of which is mine...i fight to get my sets and sidework completed as my last table orders desserts...i’ve been there the longest and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be there any longer than I have to..
I get home something short of 10, and Gary grabs me to go to Bdubs with him..don’t worry we stayed in indy this time...the bloody marys weren’t the same, but I had two regardless...i check my facebook and email and all that crap on my phone while gary watches the colts pull a victory out of their asses...oh my god no....she requested my friendship on facebook...are you kidding me? And what a great profile picture....
I like to keep exes as friends on facebook just so I can see what whorible people they develop into..i mean look at THE EX, she got all fat and ugly...and dykey...it makes me feel better to know I got in when the getting was good....i’m not adding her right now...
Back home I am still upset about the place looking like a mess...i go straight to my room and close the door...this causes me to pass out relatively early for myself...but still it was the next day...
5 missed calls, along with the 2 voicemails are from an 812 number that is not in my phone, what’s up with that? I figure someone just had the wrong number so I listen to the voicemails, half in it half out...the standard, “hey it’s me” starts off the message and I don’t recognize the voice...until the end...oh my god, she fucking called me...the ex fucking called me...listen to the next message...basically the same thing...she wanted to talk me to, she wanted me to call because it was urgent, like seriously important...
it’s funny that I just defended myself the other night against if she were to come back into my life would I get back with her...she may not have said “Jason I love you” or anything close to that, but as she ended the second message, the way the word “K” drunkingly slides off her tongue makes me melt a little...
the texts are not from her, random twitter updates - that mobile update shit is gonna stop - in part as to why I muted my phone last night...how ironic...i muted my phone and then the ex calls...it was probably for the best..
I go back to sleep, but my mind is compiling everything that just happened, so naturally she’s in my dream...i’m not happy nor rested when I wake to my alarm a little bit later.
I arrive at work for my 1030 shift and after thinking it over all morning long I finally send a text to the random number and the ex’s number stating “Hope everything is ok” - I’m a sucker for those I know in need...knight in shining armor syndrome I guess..i’m a softie because I care too much and I’ll do anything I can to make something right...i figured my response was just enough, not too much just a quick sentence, and it’s something so it is more than nothing...i get a response from the unknown number an hour later asking who I was...i tell them that the waste called me from that number last night and I was just replying to her, who is this...never got a response....the kicker would be if it was her new bf’s....
So then there was work...it was dead in the beginning...i just polished wine glasses for the better part of the day...management let two employees on break til 3 and then I was supposed to go..one of them said they would come back at 2 so I could actually get a break...i just wanted a chance to eat or it down..tonight is going to be hell....we are going to do something like 200 covers in 2 hours...our kitchen is going to crash, I know it..
Two o’clock comes and goes...i have a couple tables, but I want to eat....it’s nearing three and the dinner crowd is piling in, getting in the way as I am actually trying to work now that I got three tables in three different parts of the restaurant so I am not weeded, just a little bit hustling....”if you’re not on the clock, get the fuck out of the alley and out of my damn way - get your fucking food and head up to the room like the fucking animals you are!” - I love it when I get mad..and I think people do too...
It’s after three, I see the person who was supposed to relieve me finally walk in the door...cool, pre-shift has already started, I still have tables, and I’m about to get sat for my dinner rotation..fuck my life.
The restaurant fills up quickly, I got three tables I am working, but I’m not weeded like everyone else, in fact, I’m bored...i really don’t feel like helping out tonight though, too tired and I got fucked over, so I slowly meander from place to place, just out of eyeshot from management and those who give the look like they need a swarm or hands...i turn my tables quickly, the hosts are happy, I’m the only person who hasn’t complained to the host team yet so they are grateful with me..
My new turn however does effect me, at first..if I wanted to give my standard service, I would have been in a jam, I start to feel behind, but that quickly dissipates as my tables are trying to go the Colts game..saved, they give me their entire orders as I great them, multiple courses? - great, everything is getting run in at the same time...
It’s 8 and the restaurant is almost empty except for a few scattered tables, obviously oblivious to the game..of course one of which is mine...i fight to get my sets and sidework completed as my last table orders desserts...i’ve been there the longest and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be there any longer than I have to..
I get home something short of 10, and Gary grabs me to go to Bdubs with him..don’t worry we stayed in indy this time...the bloody marys weren’t the same, but I had two regardless...i check my facebook and email and all that crap on my phone while gary watches the colts pull a victory out of their asses...oh my god no....she requested my friendship on facebook...are you kidding me? And what a great profile picture....
I like to keep exes as friends on facebook just so I can see what whorible people they develop into..i mean look at THE EX, she got all fat and ugly...and dykey...it makes me feel better to know I got in when the getting was good....i’m not adding her right now...
Back home I am still upset about the place looking like a mess...i go straight to my room and close the door...this causes me to pass out relatively early for myself...but still it was the next day...
“You know what the difference between you and a cocksucker is? - Nothing! Now get the fuck out of my way!”
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