Tendonitis

My left shoulder throbs, from a night of carrying trays full of glasses, arm-lengths of plates, bus pans, crates, garbage cans.

A couple of weeks ago, I saw the film 127 Hours.  In the movie, the main character has to cut off his own arm in order to free himself after being pinned by a boulder for five days.  He makes a choice to live.  He has to break his own arm, and then saw it off with a dull knife, and finally snap the tendons free.

My arm cries out to me.  Every shift I work.  It tells me, “You can free yourself.  You are trapped.  This arm is pinned, but you can cut it off.  You can escape.”

Eighty-Six the Waitress

Eighty-Six the Waitress.  Time to exit.  Time to say goodbye to making Manhattans for Tom and carrying five plates of food and getting people another order of grilled pita and telling them the “specials” which have been the same for ten years and being nice to Low-blood-sugar Lady and Entitled Mom and knowing that that person likes extra cheese with his pasta and that person likes lemon slices and a straw and Sweet n’ Low with his water and she always gets shiraz and he gets a Dewars with a splash of water and yes, we know it’s really cold in here, the vents of the open kitchen suck up all the heat and yes, we know it’s really cold right here, the main air conditioning vent comes out over this table, and yes we know it’s really warm in here, the air conditioning isn’t working properly and no, we don’t do any substitutions for the rice and greens except either more rice or more greens and no we aren’t a byob and no we don’t do a corkage fee, and yes, we take credit cards at this location and sorry, we don’t take Discover and thank you so much have a great night!  Good night!  Thank you!  Good night!  Take care!  Thanks so much!  Have a good one!  Stay warm!  Stay cool!  Be safe getting home!  See you soon!  Have a great holiday!  Great to see you folks!  Great to see you guys!  Be well!  Thanks - you too!  Take care!  Buh-bye! G’night! G’night folks thank you so much!  I’m going to lock the front door – can someone shut that fucking music off?!  What are we drinking tonight?  I thought those assholes would never leave!  What’d they leave you?  Seventeen percent.  Ugh.  So not worth it.  What’d they leave you?  Twenty percent.  They were here forever, should have been more.  What’d they leave you?  Thirty bucks on sixty – super generous – they can stay as long as they want.  What'd they leave you?  Ugh, eight on sixty.  Oh, that’s good for you!  Shut up.

Forty Whacks

I was bartending a couple of Tuesdays ago.  At one point I walked to the end of the bar where the servers' station is, and said to my coworker:

"You know, I'm related to Lizzie Borden.  And right now I'd like to take an axe and cut the heads off of everyone at my bar."

It's possible this rage I felt had something to do with the fact that my ex-boyfriend was going to get married three days later.  But it may really have been the clientele that night.

Yelp

"My husband and I are regulars at this no frills neighborhood restaurant w/reliable food. Lately, the service has been horrible. On a recent Saturday night our server was completely clueless, screwed up our order and kept us waiting for food that she did not put into the kitchen. The manager, a nice guy, recognized we were regulars and apologized. Recently, our server told us that he could not cancel our order. My husband was full and could not eat the entree. The server argued w/us and would not take the entree off the menu. After we told him we were not going to pay, he conceded. This place has decent food, but really needs to work on training it's servers."

Dear N,
Remember when you used to come in by yourself and eat at the bar? You'd be so wired you couldn't actually sit down on a bar stool. Instead, you'd stand there drinking pinot grigio, eating your octopus followed by your grilled squid, staring out of the window at the park, your eyes full of sorrow and loneliness. You'd head into the bathroom with a clockwork all too familiar to people in the industry. I'd watch you go and come back, and feel your crazy manic energy punching invisible daggers through the air. And serve you another glass of wine. And hate you, and pity you at the same time.

When you were in the other night, and were told that we couldn't cancel the food because it was already being made, you became belligerent and asked for my fellow manager - the "nice guy" mentioned in your wife's review - by saying "Where's the fat guy with the hat?"

I am prepared to forgive you for your insulting, entitled behavior, if you forgive me for referring to you as the "Cokehead Lawyer" for the past many years that I've been waiting on you.