This past week has kicked my Boo-Tay. I worked every day but one and every single shift has worn me slap out. Not one even semi slow shift.
I was riding the shuttle bus back to the parking deck the other night. Mr. White was driving us, he's a real nice guy. He's kinda quiet but always asks me about Massey or other co workers who usually ride with me. His real name is Mr. Evans (all drivers have a placard with their name on it above the dashboard) but is the only white driver I've met since working at the airport so I call him Mr. White. Massey flat out refused for me to call him that to his face but's what I call him every time I see him pull in and open the shuttle door as we stand in line to get on.
Not that I care what race or gender they are, as long as they get me to the job on time and get me back to my car when it's time to leave. Duh, it's the south side of Atlanta, most all are bound to be African American or Hispanic. Doesn't bother me one bit. I'm sure if I worked at the airport in Miami would probably ride with three or quatro Luis' or Maria's.
All the drivers are very nice and always give them a tip. One buck in, maybe five on the way out if I had a phat shift and get lucky enough to have Thornton (now Neal after marrying) Lane or Newby. They are my favorite three.
I'll have to say I don't like it much when one particular lady picks me up on my way to work. The driver always asks what airline and most all people say Delta, which is D1, the first door drop off and the most convenient for me. There's D1 (my choice) D2 (a bit of a hike) and D3 (a flat out haul back to security). This one driver always says she'll try for D1 but may have to pull down to D2 or D3 if it's busy.
Scaredy cat...yeah it's gonna be busy, it's the world's busiest airport!
For Pete's sake, every other driver knows how to wheedle in and out of the traffic and let us out at D1, why can't she?
I've only tipped her once, when she got lucky and dropped me at D1. Too bad she's not a quick learner either, I've been riding that shuttle for almost three years.
So today guess who I got on the way in?
Yep, had to haul it all the way back to security from D3 which literally adds at least six minutes to your arrival at work, which means a lot when you like to be on time like me.
Walked into work and was a complete mad house, every table full and a line at the door waiting to get in. It was 2:55 in the afternoon.
Didn't let up until well after 9:00. We close at ten.
So while riding back with Mr. White after work tonight started thinking that if I extended my stay at the airport by just one more week would have a possible extra fifteen hundred to take with me to Florida.
That's a huge difference to peeps like us and pretty sure my managers would be thrilled for me to do so. I'd still have thirteen days to get out of my house and have time to get it clean so our renters could start moving in around the same time as planned. I'm a night owl anyway and do my best work after midnight.
In the past three days I've walked making well over $1,100. That's big money to someone like me, being just a waitress. Plus when servers call out and managers ask me to fill in most always say yes. I go into overtime with their blessing and simply run with and profit from it. Every week I seem to extend my last day. It was first Labor Day, then the end of Labor Day week and just a couple of days ago asked if I could stay until the seventeenth?
It's hard to walk away from the best job you ever had but need to remember and realize is one of the reasons I am able to do so.
It's served me well and feel like I have served it well in return.
I still don't know what I am waiting for.
Time may change me, but I can't change time.
The biggest and most worrisome thing I will miss about living here is my sister.
I have a million other things to worry about with this move but my biggest worry is not being near her. If you knew my sister, you'd know why.
It's been days since I started this post so just gonna keep on adding to it...
I went by the HR department yesterday at the airport to put in for my transfer to Orlando with the company. I got the email this morning that it went through.
My manager had asked on Monday if I could come in and open on Wednesday morning instead of my usual mid shift at one thirty?
My answer was the same as it's been every time they ask me to do something.
They told me I could come in at ten instead of nine but got there by 9:05 today. I quickly found out why they had asked me to come in early.
I passed one of the opening servers when coming out of security. She was headed for the escalator which take you down to the plane train back to domestic side.
Seems the long and unbelievably slow paper trail of call outs, no shows and coming in late had finally caught up with her.
Does it make me sound like a horrible person to say seeing her walking away from work made me smile?
I have a great job, just like everyone else employed there. If write ups make you lose it, have no one to blame but yourself.
I knew at once would be a long day for me and would probably have to work my mid shift too. The other shoe dropped fifteen minutes after walking into the restaurant. The other opening server called out too.
It was a hard fourteen hour shift. I was there from nine until well after closing at ten.
I walked out of security after ten thirty tonight and felt a hundred years old. My feet were walking on tiny needles and if had to bend over one more time most probably wouldn't be able to straighten up again.
I sat on a bench waiting for my daughter to pick me up (bless you, Massey for dropping me off this morning and picking me up tonight).
As I waited curbside finally sitting down for the first time (other than peeing in the restroom) calculated my haul for the day.
When my manager ran my report at the end of my shift he turned and said to me "I know you're exhausted but think you'll be pleased."
I'd made close to six hundred dollars.
Dang...I'm making stripper money with a ninety nine pound iron board body fully clothed and a lesbian haircut. Just imagine what I could have made with a set of huge Ta -Ta's and some platform shoes.
And it wasn't even that busy!
I've said it before, and will say it again. I may not excel at a lot of (most) things but think I'm a pretty decent, it not almost semi top notch server. I've always strived to be better and have constantly honed my craft and style over almost four decades.
To have a great job is one thing, to appreciate it is another.
I'm so appreciative to have had this wonderful opportunity to help my entire family out and up, and to hopefully somewhat have been an asset to the restaurant where I've been lucky enough to work.
So I have until September 17th to do this again and again and again.
And I will.
Then I'll take my show on the road to Orlando and do it there, with my family all together again for the first time in well over three years.
Went into work again today, clocking in at well over forty hours. Slam Banged out another fantastic shift and drove home thinking how lucky I was to have landed at the Crazy House almost three years ago.
The moving day has been set.
September 24th. That's when our renters are moving in so guess we'll be actually moving out on the 22nd.
We were down and out.
We almost lost our home.
Our marriage was in shambles.
We did what we had to do.
I stepped out of my comfort zone.
I rose to the challenge, so did my husband.
My husband started again from scratch, moved a thousand miles away for over a year then soared on his own.
Am I nervous?
Does it feel right?
Never felt so right.
My money's on my gut.