I asked Metalhead what was up and he kinda looked at me sideways before saying "Chef says you need to focus on your work more. I think that's utter bullshit since you're doing fine." That made me pretty mad. I've been a rock for that restaurant through all kinds of shit that they've been dragged through, what with theft and turnover like you wouldn't believe, and each shift they call me in for, I come in and work, without exception. Chef and I always got along too, so I was honestly very hurt. He came into the dining room as I was setting up, and I said "Hey Chef, can we talk for a second?" "You wanna talk to me?" he asked. "Yeah." "Not now, I'm VERY busy." Then he walked away singing. That was the last straw. I had to put in music before I started crying like a little bitch, so I finished what I was doing and left.
Today also started out as a really shitty day - I'm fighting off a sinus infection and boys are stupid - and I wasn't really looking forward to shlepping to work to have to deal with Jimmy and D and Chef.
I got there at six, and Darla greeted me happily, as she does. I was chugging green tea like a boss, and put my things behind the bar when she slipped next to me and whispered "do you know that Jimmy quit?"
"You know, Brit," he grunted. "I like you, and you're a very pretty girl, but you're a bitch. You have serious ego problems. Do you have a boyfriend?"
I so don't but I immediately invented the most gorgeous boyfriend you could ever imagine and told him we'd been dating for a few months.
"Well...you should ditch him and come out with me sometime, if I stay here."
It took every cell in my body not to laugh, and I said something along the lines of having to go back inside and taking care of my tables. So I fucked off.
The rest of the night was not so great. We are out of almost everything - eggplant, lamb, most of our kebabs, and customers were not happy. A couple tables actually walked out, as did a woman who had ordered a takeaway. I was swaying dangerously throughout most of service, due to a lack of food and generally feeling fucked up, and D snarled at me that I should have stayed home and called in sick rather than come into work. I'm a waitress. I have no health insurance in the state of Michigan. I cannot AFFORD to call in sick. Asshat.
So just as I was set to leave at 8.30 as per his instructions, he pulled me and Darla aside. "Turn off the open sign and start locking the doors." Yep. We closed down in the middle of dinner service.
It could be because the kitchen never bothers to order food anymore, it could be because he decided to send me home then realized he'd actually have to work, don't know. But it was crazy.
Darla and I are going out for drinks and dinner now to celebrate the demise of Jimmy.
God I'm happy.
Love, kisses and triumph,