DANG...I am TIRED !

I feel like my sister's boxer LOOKS in this photo.



Friday I had to be at work at 11:30 AM to work the lunch shift. Got off at 4:20 and had to back on at 5:00.



I went home to trade cars with Tim so Zach could give my car a MUCH needed oil change. I gave the dogs some fresh water...Hey, it was only 90 degrees outside and there are three dogs, who'd expect anyone else in the house would think to give them a big fresh bowl of water at LEAST a couple of times a day? You know they are always panting anyway...guess they looked normal to the kids! They can always just lick the slobber off each other for hydration.



Went and cranked up Tim's car to go back to work...already sweating like a Ho in church when I remembered Tim's A/C didn't work in his car. OH GREAT!



By the time I got back to work I was sweating so bad in my long sleeved work shirt that I wish I still resembled the Ho in church condition I had left the house in.



I immediately got seated with a party of nine and fifteen minutes later a party of sixteen. Thankfully I was working both parties with a really good server who trained me (and they STILL kept him!)



Our restaurant computer system identifies us by our finger print on a pad mouse and sometimes it doesn't seem to read my print and allow me to ring in orders. I thought maybe it had to do with me burning off all my prints cooking pizzas for "Johnny's" for fifteen years when another server told me last weekend that the sensor needs for you to have some oil on your finger to read it. Since we all wash our hands about 30 times a night during a shift, I guess it washes away all the oil. She said sometimes she keeps a small beverage napkin by the computer with some olive oil on it to dab on her finger when the sensor won't read her print.



I was trying to ring in a nine top and then a sixteen top and the freaking sensor wouldn't read my finger print. Of course I had forgotten about the handy "bev nap" trick and was starting to get behind. I still have a hard time ringing in big orders quickly so I thought "What the heck" and wiped my finger across my forehead and tried the sensor pad again.



BINGO! Thank the Lord I was like a greased pig...the computer recognized my print and I got all my orders in on time. Disgusting? Yes. Resourceful? Heck yeah!



Got through both parties when the owner told me I was on a party of 14 in the private room for a surprise birthday party..."SURPRISE, YOU SWEATY PIG!"



I worked this party with another server that had trained me as well (HEY, they even made her head waitress in addition to keeping HER.)



They had a crown for the birthday girl to wear, a feather boa and had the table all decorated for her arrival. When the birthday girl finally arrived, she was a short very heavy set girl stuffed into a strapless poodle skirt sun dress who when seeing all her friends starting jumping up and down and reminding me of Nikki Blonsky in "Hairspray."



They were a nice bunch...a bit eclectic..very gay and look who they got for a server....ME!! I already look gay with my hair cut and the Liberal roots of my parents loins from which I sprang let me fit right into their party. I am by NO means "Homophobic" but the opposite. They were all so excited about "Nikki's" birthday and I was glad they chose our place and the owner had chosen me to serve them. Most all of them had been servers (another plus.)



Unlucky for me, they were in no kind of a hurry. I had been there since 11:30, they got seated at 7:30 and at 11:30 most of them were still there. Nikki had bounced all over the room in her by now obvious "Fake" boa. There were black feathers all over the floor from one end of the room to the other. They finally paid their tab about 10:30 and I thought I finally saw light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunate for me it was a freight train barrelling down the tracks. They seemed to settle in to wait for her birthday to roll around once again.



By this point I had used up all the grease on my forehead and was just ready to "GO."

They didn't leave until after 11:30...we close at 10:30. A couple of times they asked "Are we holding you up?' I told them (like a good server) "Not at all." I felt like saying "No, my aching legs are holding me up, but BARELY...and y'all save something to chat about in the car!!"



When they were having their last round of drinks , the bartender walked by and commented on all the black feathers from the fake boa on the floor saying it looked like someone had just had a hair cut. I told her that not ONE woman in that room was in need of a haircut...my hair was longer than most of theirs.



They finally rolled out, happy and full. They tipped us really well, I know they had a good time and it wasn't THEIR fault I had just finished my twelfth hour on my feet with my greasy forehead.



It took a good twenty minutes to sweep up the boa scraps and another ten minutes to return the room to its former condition.



I got home after midnight...mainly because Massey text me and said she needed to be picked up from her friend's house. Luckily I absolutely love the girl and her family and after 12 hours on my feet, it felt good to just SIT in a car. Especially since Zach had returned MY car to work and taken his dad's "Ovenmobile" back home after the oil change.



Just another day in my life...



Til next time "Greasy Cotton"