Full Moon Fever

I'm a firm believer in Full Moon Madness. It brings out the crazy in people. Sunday is the official full moon but it's pretty close to being full tonight.

I had an awesome day. Started early and by noon had chores done and dinner cooking in the stove. Work was insane tonight. I was talking with the owner tonight after we closed. Sales for this night were up fifty percent from this date last year.

I had a party of thirty with another server, a wedding rehearsal. We work well together and it  went smooth as silk. The mother of the groom  was paying and seemed very pleased. She let us add an 18% gratuity and kicked in a Franklin extra for us. NICE!

I had a couple of folks who were flat out crazy but at least they tipped well. Had one table of Europeans...Rut Row. There's nothing a server dreads more than hearing a European accent. Overseas, servers are considered professionals and make a much higher wage. On top of that most places there automatically add gratuity . The bill was $136.00 and they left me eleven bucks. Of course they did say I did an outstanding job and made their night. Compliments are great but hard to pay a mortgage with. At least they were pleasant peeps. It's worse when they are horrible guests AND don't tip. Made it up on the rehearsal dinner but didn't walk out of the restaurant until after midnight, feeling like I was coming down with the ancient Chinese disease, "Dragon Ass."

I've been really digging having two days in a row off each week. I can't remember the last time I did, it was probably when in my teens.

I've gotten my house so clean, can actually answer the door without peeking out the upstairs window first. The laundry stays caught up and little details usually neglected get done on a weekly basis. It's amazing how happy clean doors and baseboards can make you feel. My kitchen looks marvelous from the makeover my sister gave it and everyone in the house knows I'm a freak about keeping it spotless now.

I've been going room by room, detailing. Ceiling fans...used to just always keep them on so you couldn't see how filthy the blades were. Guess what? That's right, every one of them are clean now. I've been cleaning the junk drawer, in other words every drawer in the house. I've cleaned out closets and cleaned out under cabinets.

I even did my nails last night, something I haven't done in four months. I still haven't shaved my legs but the prickly hairs  help my socks stay up. I think the last time I shaved them was when we moved Massey into her college dorm last August. I'm going to need a chain when I do.

I've scrubbed walls and toilets. I've cleaned light fixtures I forgot were clear. I've cleaned every window sill in my house and washed curtains that were most probably feeling extremely neglected, because they were.

I've pruned my out of control rose bush and  the garage can now actually hold a car without having to walk sideways to the kitchen door. Pictures and bookshelves have been dusted and have even had the time to start reading again. I haven't read a book in three months and usually read one every week or so.

All three of my kids are gainfully employed and my two sons still living at home have started really helping us out, financially and physically. They have started cleaning  brush from the back of our yard where woods at the back of our property are trying to take over and shrinking our yard every year.

They kick in for a bill when hear me lamenting about something being late or overdo. Massey got a job on campus and makes enough we don't have to send her spending money.

All in all it is, as The Beatles said "Getting better all the time."

Tim's still looking for full time work but thanks to the tipping gods, my family and kids are staying afloat and Momma can take two days off a week.

I could still work seven days a week and lose my sanity but it's not like those two extra days will solve all our problems and the relief I feel when  Tuesday night's shift ends and know I have until Friday for myself is SO worth it, it's not even funny.

I've had horrible back problems for a few weeks but Tim has shown me how to stretch and feels much better. I just have to be consistent, do it every day and use the heating pad and ice pack alternatively. Another server (yes a young one) said "Don't you think going a chiropractor would help?"

I told her I was sure it would, but stretching every day is free and already own a heating pad AND icepack.

 I think about my life at the age of almost fifty four. I'm officially past middle age unless I live to be a hundred and eight.

Talk about depressing!

You know what? If I die tomorrow, will have died a happy woman. I have a husband and kids who love me. I have fantastic sibs and a great job....AND I have two days off a week.

I have the whole Full Moon weekend to work and are usually major banking days.

Even if they aren't,  feel so frisky and well rested  I really don't even worry about it anymore.

Que Sera, Sera.

What will be will be.

Til next time...COTTON

Joenine

We got a new guy at work. He's a full blooded Indian from Oaklahoma and just moved here to Newnan. Kind of ironic, the county we live in is "Coweta" the name of a former tribe. I've never worked with a full blooded Native American but respect the heck out of them. We raped them of their land and rights, took over their nation and as my younger son Zach said "Shoved them all into a tiny territory."

He's a really nice guy and has tried hard to fit into our dysfunctional work family. Here's the thing, he's a klutz. He bumps into you constantly (and is  not a tiny Indian). He's studied the menu and tried hard to learn all the dishes and done an excellent job. He's just a klutz, but are a lot worse things a person could be. I like to call him Chief, some call him Injun but he takes it all in the spirit which it is given. His real name is Joe.

A couple of weeks ago he was in the kitchen at work and knocked over a huge stained glass screen that hides all the brooms and dustpans from customers being able to see them. The bottom panel cracked and fell out and I could tell he was sick about it. Luckily, Barb had gone to the store for something so we patched it up with duct tape and no one mentioned it when she got back.

He's the real deal, his last name is even Tall Bull. I've affectionately started calling him "Tall Bull in a china shop."

Saturday night he was doing his sidework which included marrying the racks of coffee mugs by  the coffee station which  sits right by  the door leading to the dining room. He pulled the bottom rack out and pulled it a bit too far and the entire front of the rack fell to  the floor sending the china cups crashing to the tile floor and rolling out into the dining room. The rack fell on the top of one of his feet and as he leaned back in pain against  the wall behind him (which houses all controls for the lighting in the entire restaurant)  and slumped down a bit he inadvertently turned down every light in the store. Lucky for him (again) Barb was gone on break and we all helped him sweep up the mess before she got back. Barb is so tight she could pinch a penny til it screamed. The minute she hears a crash anywhere in  the restaurant, her head snaps quickly  to  the side and she hurries off to see what we have broken now.

So Tall Bull in a china shop got off easy again. When Barb got back she immediately asked who had been messing with the lights, it was dark as night in the place. Oops, we forgot to push the light switches back up after Chief fell into  the wall.

So about an hour later was in the back of the kitchen when Tall Bull in a china shop was trying to cut up  the Parmesan cheese. Len (the owner)  buys a huge wheel that is hard as heck to cut and has a huge two handled knife over two feet long just for that purpose. Tall Bull in a china shop had a knife like the ones we use to cut bread with and was sawing away  at the wheel of cheese which is the diameter of a basketball. He said the Len, "Is this the knife I should be using for this?" to which Len replied that was the worst knife to use. I chuckled at  that and before I could stop myself said "Somebody get him a tomahawk." I did go over and find the two handled knife for him and showed him how to use it.

It's been lots of fun having a new server to harass and he's given us endless material to work with.

About three years ago, Barb hired a gal who was a total spastic wreck. I know Barb felt sorry  for her (Barb always likes to have a pet project) but the gal just couldn't catch on. Her name was Janine. Len made her a nervous wreck and she was terrified of him. Here's the thing about Len: do your job EXACTLY the way he tells you to  and you  won't have any problem. Well, maybe one or two...he IS a Mad Italian but work hard and you  can fly under the radar for the most part.

Any  time he would tell her to do something, she always tried to go one step further, which isn't what he wants. He wants you to do exactly what he tells you  to do. One time he told her to take more bread to a table. He had stopped by  to chat with them and said he'd have the server bring more bread out with their meal. He went to find Janine and told her to take more bread to table 202. She made the fatal mistake of saying "They don't want anymore." Let's just say  that set him off.  He said "Did I ASK you if  they wanted more or did I TELL you  to take them more?"

Here's the thing, when he stopped by  to  chat they said they had changed their mind and more bread would be nice. When the owner of a restaurant tells you to do something, unless it is illegal or not job related, you'd best do it. I learned  that one YEARS ago.

One night, a busy Friday night Janine was standing by the expo counter and in the middle of a huge push (that means we were balls to the walls busy) knocked the printer off the counter which sends checks to the cooks. It hit the floor and busted open, but that's not all. As she tried to catch  the printer from  falling she knocked the huge container of pasta spoons onto the floor and as she tried to catch  that from falling as well, knocked a container of steak knives onto the floor as well. When  the ole gal goofed, she did it royally. Len had to come off  the cook line and fix the printer while the rest of us picked up all  the spoons and knives.

She's been gone for three years but still say to someone when they make a mess or goof up royally "Way  to go Janine."

So now we have a "Joenine."

Yes restaurant people are a brutal bunch and you gotta have thick skin to work in one. We're also a dysfunctional family that sticks together and will help a brother or sister out.

I've been a server since 1979. That's a long time no matter what you do for a living. I enjoy it for the most part, it's fast paced but that's the way I am geared. Even if it's balls to the walls busy, there will always be down time when you can laugh and trust me, working with the public gives you plenty of things to laugh about.

Even though we are  family we are a divided family. Cooks vs Servers. All cooks think servers are complete idiots and all servers think cooks are complete asses. Who's right? It depends on which side of the kitchen you work.

 Take tonight, for example. A cook, who can be a total Richard Noggin' was taking a break. He had fixed his dinner on a plate and it held two apples and carrot sticks. Being the smarty pants I am said "What are you, a horse now?' When he smirked at me I turned to another server and said "And we thought he was a Jack Ass!"

Everybody in South Korea (our side of the line) laughed. Total silence from North Korea. (their side)

It's our beach season in the restaurant world. We have six weeks to pad our nest egg. Large parties every night and lots of peeps out to celebrate. It started slow for me but that's just the way it is.

Waiting tables is always a gamble. You roll big or you crap out. You just keep on keeping on and hope  it all averages out in your favor.

We have a pretty good staff right now and are set for the Holidays. I say,"Bring it!"

Til next time...Cotton

I Need More Days Like This

Work up early to Tim bringing me coffee and breakfast in bed, not a bad start. I watched the news and piddled around til noon. Tim and Zach drove downtown  to pick up Massey and have lunch  with Tim's Spanish teacher from high school who lives in Virginia/ Highland. Cut the front and back yard and got through  just in time to get ready for work. Massey and the boys got home as I was getting ready to walk out the door for work but at least  had a couple of minutes with her.

 A hug and kiss and touching their face is all you need sometimes. I went into work one happy ole gal.

Walked into total mayhem.

In less than one minute I was Lucy in the candy factory again. We usually run with no fewer than seven servers and sometimes eight. We had five servers (one almost nine months pregnant) and the place was already half full. I never wear my work shirt in  because it's so hot. I usually wear my little camisole and change in the restroom. They needed me to pick up a table immediately so I set my cup of water down,  pulled off my camisole right there in  the server alley and put on my work shirt. It's not like anybody in the kitchen had time to notice my pitifully small boobs and in under ten seconds I was ready to go.

 My first table was a party of five, ordered two large bottles of Pelligrino and a seventy dollar bottle of wine followed by two orders of Escargot. Their tab was well over a hundred bucks before they even ordered dinner. BINGO! Right after I served their entrees a party of twenty five came in that had requested me to be their server for their parent's fiftieth wedding anniversary. We were so short on servers I had to take the party by myself. YIKES!

We have a new girl who is still in training so she was helping everyone out and for the next  few minutes she helped me.

Last week I waited on a woman with her two daughters who I have waited on several times before. The first time I waited on them I noticed the woman's necklace and asked  her where she got it? She said she bought it at a boutique on the Newnan Square. I asked if it was made by Jill Massey Couture Designs and she looked shocked, said "Yes! How did you know that?" I told her Jill Massey was my cousin. Now they are regulars of mine at  the restaurant. Last week she told me she was bringing her parents in eat and wanted me to wait on them. I didn't realize she meant with twenty two other people.

The owner said to take the party by  myself and they wouldn't seat me any other tables. Luckily I had just dropped the check with my first table (who had ordered ANOTHER $69 bottle of wine with dinner). He left me a fifty dollar tip...AND I WAS OFF TO A GREAT START!

The new girl was really helpful and wouldn't have been able to do it without her. The main thing I needed help with was getting all the drinks and bread out to the table while I rang in  the twenty five orders. From  there I could handle it on my own. I thanked  the new girl, Leigh several times and she even helped refill  tea and water glasses while I served the salads and soups. I was chatting with the honorees and congratulated them on their fifty years together and threw in my standing joke "My husband says he FEELS like he's been married to me for fifty years."

I never like to compliment the chefs too much back across the cook line which servers consider the divide between North and South Korea but had to tonight. Ask a cook and we servers are N. Korea ask a server and they are. Well we all worked together tonight and my twenty five top went out perfect and it was one big happy table!

I cleared  the dinner dishes and  told the couple celebrating their fiftieth that the strippers were here  and we needed to make room. They both got a kick out of that. I told them I would bring out the cake to let them take pictures and then take it back  to the kitchen to cut and serve. They all thought  that was a great idea. I was getting the back  table in the kitchen ready to cut the cake when the sometimes sour puss sous chef  commented I could do it at the table  lot easier. I told him there was no  room, which  there wasn't and pointed my finger at him, winked my eye and said "Then they would know how much cake was left."

Needless to say they had plenty left to take home and we had plenty to eat in the kitchen! I talked to the woman who had asked me to wait on  them and said normally with a party this size wanting separate checks we added a suggested gratuity of 18% and did she think that would be okay? She said certainly so I did just that! The tab was over $400.00 and every one of them left me more than the eighteen. The husband who's anniversary it was (and who's tab was picked up by  one of their kids) handed me a twenty and said thank you. When boxing their leftover cake I made the comment to the anniversary couple "Now don't be showing up pregnant and having a baby nine months from tonight, because ain't none of us gonna baby sit for you!"

You have to know who  to joke with and this was the table for it. They loved me and showed me their love.  There was one little old lady at  the table who's tab was only twenty three dollars, she had split a meal with her daughter. She told me four dollars wasn't enough of a tip and scrambled around in her purse and gave me a few more dollars. In the end they gave me about fifty extra bucks over the eighteen percent gratuity.

I worked my butt off, needed help from the trainee, Leigh to get it all started but was pretty much a flawless party.

I waited on just two tables but walked out with not only Ben Franklin but his twin brother and boy, did I need it.

The trainee was getting ready to leave and I handed her ten dollars and told her how much I appreciated her help. She looked at me quizzically and asked if the servers were supposed to be tipping her out? I said no but I was. I told one of the managers how much Leigh had helped me out and she said "Leigh isn't here tonight, that's the other new girl. This girl's name is Rachel."

I went to find Leigh/Rachel and apologize. She laughed and said she didn't even notice. It was pure pandemonium  and I can be quite bossy  when I get into my server groove.

Here's the real deal. I went into work today thinking how in the heck am I gonna make it through this week with all the bills we have due?

God provides...and HE did just that for me tonight.

Added bonus, the little old woman who scrounged in her purse to give me a couple of bucks extra...and she took a long time scrounging so  starting chatting with her and it ends up we both lived on Bayard Street in East Point back in the sixties. That just opened up a whole 'nother can of worms (as we say in the south) and chatted for about ten minutes about what a great place East Point was to grow up. Jeez, these peeps loved me so much I felt like taking a bow. Instead they all asked  for my name saying they would come back and ask for me again.

Once again I used my standard remark. "You don't have to remember my name just call and say you want the skinny old woman who looks like a lesbian."

So I got my butt kicked. It felt good. It made me realize once again, you get what  you  give. I was talking with the owner tonight before I left, telling him I gave Leigh/ Rachel ten bucks and still walked with two Franklins.

 He's so smart. He said that's a good thing, she'll learn early on...work hard and you  will be compensated.

I've had no time to spend with my Girl. Got home after eleven and have to be at work by eleven in the morning but  made enough tonight to treat them all to brunch at the restaurant tomorrow and still get the bills paid. My boss  always gives me discount when my fam comes in.

I am a loved, blessed and lucky woman.  

Til next  time...COTTON

Made it Another Week!

Just got home from work and boy my dog's are barking, and I don't mean my three pups. I mean my two callused, bunioned and corn ridden size six worn out dogs I used to call feet many years ago.

Anyone who's been a server for decades like me can relate. Serving is rough on your body but brutal on your tootsies. I wear excellent shoes now,  which my sweet sister gave to me, and couldn't even imagine how my feet would feel if still wearing the Wal Mart work shoes I wore for years. The great thing about Danskos is they look good with jeans, a skirt or even a dress. They are my "Go To" shoes and of course with Ziggy my chewing pup around now, are the only shoes I have left. I used to have two pair of tennis shoes but have been missing one of  each pair for months and have yet to discover where he took them.  I have a couple of pair of heels but with feet in my condition, shoving them into pointed toe shoes which leave my bruised heels three inches off  the ground seems like and IS unnecessary added  torture and  don't mind being almost five foot four one bit!

Lately, especially after reaching the half century mark other parts of me have been falling apart as well. The arm I've used to carry dishes on for almost thirty five years is (as we say in the south) "Wore slap out." My wrist gives out all the time and my  finger prints burned off back in the eighties from  cooking pizzas while a manager with Johnny's Pizza. Thankfully I've never been arrested or booked but would find it hard to believe they could raise prints off my fingers. I still have scars up and down each arm from  slinging pizzas into an oven set on 500 degrees for fourteen years. Needless to  say I don't have any hair on my forearms either. I do have hair on my legs, but that's because I am lazy and the stubble helps keep my work tights up.

 I could shave my legs with my work tights on but don't want to put a run in my tights, they cost me a buck ninety nine at  the Sock Shoppe. Heck... I could cut 'em with scissors but they keep me warmer in  the cold winter months and skinny women need all the warmth they can get. I mentioned this entire line of reasoning to my husband one time. He sat silent for a moment and then simply said with a slow shake of his head, "Babe, you  really know how to turn a man on."

I am pleased to announce (which makes me look even sadder) the thing I thought was a tick, then a mole, then a skin tag on my upper shoulder turned out to be a zit. I was elated!

You just never know when you start to get older, how much the little things will make you happy. Tim got up  for work a few minutes ago  to head into work  and came downstairs to eat. I handed him my glasses and said to look at the spot that has been bothering me on my shoulder. He said, while standing in the kitchen in his underwear scratching his crotch... "Looks like a zit. It's got a head on it, just pop it" and continued to warm up some leftovers.

Getting older isn't pretty sometimes, but beats the alternative. Tim and I have been together over a quarter of a century. We started out dirt poor when TJ was two. We worked our way up to over six figures while having two more kids.  We had a great life for years and years, then hit the skids.

We survived the skids too, with so much help the U.S. government should have contacted us to see how we managed , wanting to incorporate our method of survival into their own.

In the grand scheme of things, I'm doing okay. It hasn't been easy but there are tens of millions and then some who have it a whole lot worse.

My marriage has taken a hit, my kids have suffered through the hit but both are things that can be fixed. Tim and I still love each other and are committed. One day it will be easy street again and hopefully will look back and both say "Remember when..."

Having this new job has eased my stress level tremendously. Two days a week I don't sling plates but instead sling my forte'.  (my PHD in BS)  I can talk like nobody's business and after thirty five years of selling food know how to talk to people and  make them feel good about buying a product from me.

Four days a week it's food, two days it's furniture.

I can't begin to tell you how much my tiny little body and worn out feet have enjoyed this change.

I have tomorrow off and what the heck, have decided to clean my house. It's more disgusting than my legs and feet. My thinking of late has been  I have a seventeen and twenty year old living here and if they don't mind living in  filth while I work two jobs, who am I to help clean the hovel?

I can think back years ago when I would clean the house. They were all babies.  I would bust my ass for eight hours and then sit back with a glass of wine and breathe in the smell of a clean house. It smelled and felt delicious.

That's my goal for my day off. To sit back tomorrow night, look around my house and not be disgusted.

I'm a realist...if I get halfway there it will be a total success!

Til next  time...COTTON

Gonna Miss My "Booty" ful Friend

Tonight was the last night at work for one of our bartenders who is one of my absolute favorite peeps. She's a beauty, inside and out. She has the work ethic so many young people never grasp or even seem to want. She has a huge heart and even though I am probably older than her own mother  has always made me feel young.

We have exactly the same views on everything ranging from moral values and ideals to politics and the love of dogs.

She has always reminded me of the Walt Disney version of Cinderella.  Beautiful blond hair most always swept back at work by a cute up do or fancy hair band.

She has a booty that I constantly kid her about....Baby got back and I cannot lie.

 I usually always do  the sandwich  sign that goes out front of the restaurant because I love to write... whether it's a short story, blog or  just block letters on a sign. Even when I am taking orders on my order pad, if it's sloppy I rewrite them all before even putting them into the computer.

I was doing the sign out front one day during some sporting event...I  think it was the Olympics. I had  neatly drawn the five Olympic rings and asked her if it was okay  to write "Come enjoy watching the games and a glass of wine with our "Booty"ful bartender!"

She laughed but totally nixed my idea.

I will miss her but know she is making the right move.

She fell in love with  a great guy  who is another good friend of mine. They moved in together and got a place in mid town Atlanta over 25 miles away.

Coming from a person who sets the alarm for forty five minutes before having to clock in at work and still has time to shower, iron a shirt and feed three dogs, I am surprised she has made the commute this long! I guess it helps she drives a Prius.

I'll miss my girl. Dang it's hard to let go when you feel like a co worker is part of your family...and the good ones are. Some others are like crazy relatives you have to like but roll your eyes at every time they walk away or complain.

I'm a "Lifer"...  have been a server for well over thirty years and  is my chosen profession. It's allowed me to raise three kids and for the most part enjoy going to work every day. I meet different people have different situations every day and for the most part love it.

When I think of my dear friend moving on it reminds me I am over half a century old and still not doing what I really want the most...to be a writer.

Then I look at  the above picture and  think... both sets of my grandparents gone, both parents gone and only one aunt left.

But I still have my brother and sister. God left me in wonderful hands. They both (for some unknown reason :)  love and support me no matter what spot I find myself in. It's just us now...but we had the greatest parents on the planet which luckily leaves me one of the luckiest siblings on the planet.

It's time for me to get off my own ninety five pound "Booty" and at least TRY and be a writer.

I've been practicing putting my drivel on  discs and learning how to compress files. No one wants a manila envelope in the mail anymore...they think it may contain anthrax.

If I'm lucky I may have thirty good years left.  I think it's time to get cracking... my knees already crack!

Good luck  to my beautiful/bootyful friend. You  are so smart to grab your dream when you are young.

Tomorrow is unknown,  even the next instant is uncertain. Grab life while you can!

I'm getting me an extra hour of sleep tonight...that may all I need  for today but I'm gonna start thinking about tomorrow a LOT more often.

In my home we have all bases covered. Tim is a staunch Republican and my oldest son TJ is close behind. Massey is a moderate, I am a Democrat and Zach is an Anarchist.

I told my dear sweet friend tonight as I hugged her neck for the last time and left work (totally kidding but somewhat meaning it) "Don't leave me! Now It's just me, the Latinos and African Americans in the kitchen."

Good luck, Anna and Godspeed!

Til next  time...COTTON