HA

dear old bitch at table 13,

remember when you walked into the restaurant at 5:30 and demanded a table for eight people? how the rest of your party finally arrived at 7:00? and how, despite the fact that we don't take reservations, we held the table for you?

remember how you mentioned to the three ladies you were waiting with that you wanted to order an appetizer and how i overheard you and brought a complimentary bruschetta?

remember how all of your food came out perfectly timed; how each item (with some sort of fucking addendum attached) was served as specified?

remember how nice the evening was and how polite i was towards you and your party?

and then remember how your friend asked for dessert and i kindly noted that we did not serve dessert? did you notice the window when you walked in that said the restaurant was over a hundred years old and has never served dessert?

did you bother to look at the menu that kindly asked patrons to limit the number of credit cards to two per check?

did you think i was out to get you when you screamed at me "WELL THEN YOU HAVE TO BRING US TWO CHECKS I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HAVE ALL THESE RULES!! WHAT KIND OF RESTAURANT IS THIS!!!!!!"?

...i just asked if it was possible to not split the bill on four separate cards. my mistake, see, i had assumed that you were dining with friends. apparently that was not the case. whoops.

i have never spoken to anyone with the amount of disrespect you showed me.

were you having a hot flash?

seeing as you took up half of my section the entire night the 14% tip you left on $300 would have seemed paltry and i suppose it's your own fault that you didn't look at the bill and see the large disclaimer

"17% GRATUITY (already) INCLUDED" with a big arrow pointing to the total and a smiley face

:)

thanks for making my night, cunt.

sincerely,

your waitress

alive

yes i am.

sorta.

4:40am is not a bedtime.

this is a time when santa comes.

ha.

panocha

i speak three languages, one properly and two quite badly.

in fact, you could say i only speak one language.

the other two i mime and punctuate with dirty words and hand gestures.

there is one word ive embraced lately and that word is "panocha"

it means pussy in spanish slang

the reason is has become so pervasive in my lexicon is that i work with a lot of fungi

predominately porcini mushrooms and truffle oil.

todays appetizer smelled like underwear, clean and fresh at first

then, as the day wore on, it became increasingly pungent and heavy

combine that with an anchovy pizza and you've got the equivalent of a private room at the o'farrell theater dancing in you nostrils.

i wanna work at jamba juice

.

plated

so the other day i had a table of regulars who come in about twice a week for my super awesome roman style pizza at my slow food day job.

have you ever seen that bone china that is slanted and you can't quite tell is its a diamond shape or and fucked up square? well those are the plates i have at work.

these particular plates are rather difficult to get onto a square table unless you know how to line them up just right.

so i managed to get four plates and two round pizzas on one table and my regulars were impressed.

i responded to their compliments by commenting that "my attention to symmetry is unparalleled"

hahahahahahahahahaha

no one appreciates puns anymore

a broad

so i have manage to finagle my way into a trip to scotland with my boyfriends family

technically i was invited by his father.

i have never spent a pound in my life and am quite looking forward to it.

i've got all my shifts covered and have worked extra for the last few weeks to cover myself.

i dropped a grand on a ticket this morning.

after a long day at work i stopped by the bar across the street for a shot and a beer.

the guy from the local beer distributor was drinking there and bought me my shot of jameson

the the bartender asked me to call the card on the PBR cap.

i said 7 of clubs...i was right...i got a free beer.

in terms of being an over-qualified waitress...it's been a good day.

oi.

i have a new box

its a bigger box with a kitchen...

something that my previous box lacked--it also has a living room.

i fucking love it.

its $1200 a month...its not cheap...

but when people ask me if it's cheaper than my old place i respond

"you know how at the grocery store you can look at the shelf and it tells you the price of the item...and then it tells you the price per ounce?

well...its a better price per ounce."

hate list

i hate all things "hip"

hippies and hipsters namely

yesterday the boyfriend and i were leaving his house for work...he to his corporate newspaper gig and me to my italian lunch shift.

upon reaching the car we noticed that there was a large white econoline van parked along side that block us from pulling out. boyfriend said " hey bud, that's me in the red car right there..." hippie looked at him but did not respond. so we get in the car...wait a minute...try to back out...isn't gonna happen.

so, again, boyfriend hops out of car and ask if the man would mind moving his van so that we can back out.

so this fucking "hippie" with his econoline van and his laptop (he was using the local coffee shops free wi-fi) turns and says "you've just got like all this bad energy man"

ok NO. i've fucking had it. and i'm waging war on the faux hippie bullshit culture. fuck you people! you and your fuel guzzling pedophile mobile. you and your fucking DELL. your hit-or-miss attempts at nonconformity just serve to embarrass you...wash your fucking hair. and while you are at it practice some common courtesy...i should now have had to ask twice...in fact you should have replied the first time with "oh hey yeah, no problem man!" because that's what i would have done...learn some manners...

i'll get back to the hipsters

wind section

so last night i made dinner with the boyfriend.

he had requested we go to his house and make mac and cheese and a ton of vegetables...so i went to the nature stop and got pasta and cheese and greens and milk.

he had ment he wanted to make mac and cheese from a box.

so we made gorgonzola and white cheddar shells...used a dash of cayenne and some black pepper.

salad with boston lettuce and a spring mix...tossed in organic romas, yellow peppers, kalamata olives, grated rainbow carrots, and shredded raw beets.

also made breadcrumbs from a stale bread from brioche bakery that i toasted and crushed.

today i had the worst gas i have ever had in my entire life.

now maybe it was the yogurt with buckwheat, walnuts, apricots and prunes i had for breakfast...or maybe it was the raw beet...but for one reason or another i have morphed into a trumpet.

i sound like a dying goose

fucking hippies

ok so just to be clear on my status...i was born to hippie parents and grew up in a double wide trailer in the mountains is humboldt county where we grew about 70% of our own produce and hunted wild game for the freezer. i know how to gut a deer and a fish and a wild turkey. i spent a large part of my childhood naked on the river building sandcastles and jumping off rocks. i have friends who travel through small town america and work at organic farms, they dread their hair, they live in vans and are genuine people.

i think this means i am qualified to make some comments on todays "hippie"

1. just cause you know a guy from mendo who lets you clean reefer does not mean you embody peace and love...this means you are a capitalist participating in a legal and unregulated drug trade...deal with it.

2. if you wear tie-dyed t-shirts but smoke camel filters, again, you are still not a hippie.

3. smelling bad is not essential...in fact it can be said that the way you present yourself is a way of showing respect to the people around you. and if you are simply to lazy to bathe this does not a hippie make

4. ...and to top it off...if you throw a hundred dollar bill at a very tired and overworked waitress with a twisted foot and tell her to get you a mocha (to go) then you are just a dick (...and really you could have given me something smaller...what hippie rolls with a wad of hundies anyway...oh yeah thats right...the guy who knows a guy with a friend from mendo...fucking "cliche flunkie")

on that note...to all you white trash parasites who fully intend to name their children after various types of crab grass just so you can continue to carry out your fucking facade...go fuck yourselves...keep to growing pot in you moms guesthouse and eating at fucking applebees you fucking phonies.

also i am not a hippie and i will have no problem with beating your ass you scuzzy turds

late night hangover

ugh

i got drunk too early...or maybe just early enough. thank you work people for inciting this tequila headache that keeps me up at 3am on a monday morning. thank you work people for getting down with all that cheesy saucy mexican food and beer and margaritas.

thank you superbowl for giving me an extra day off from work

thank you work people for making the trek a whole half block to the karaoke bar so that i might wail an off-key rendition of "old time rock and roll" just as i began belching mexi-tequila goodness.

i fell asleep at 10:30 while waiting for the boyfriend to show up and then missed all his calls and he went home. his messages were really cute..."well...i uh...guess i'll talk to you later...uh..."

highlight was when rachel got her picture taken with gavin newsom...but the camera didn't work so she made him wait while she found one that did.

i could not, for the life of me, figure out why she was posing for a picture with some random frat boy--till i saw the picture and was like "oh it's the mayor."

--oh and by the way baby...he was wearing your same giants hat--

cheers

and from this coop i fly

i might just have got my first true blue apartment on my own.

no roommates no guarantor no nothing but my own awesomeness to secure it.

im counting chickens

i dont know how much the rent will be.

it may be 1100 a month.

it may be 900

whatever it is...its mine

"she was tired of living in a box

...so she pack her bags with ribbons and strings and hats and scarves, rocks, and shoes, books and unopened glue-guns, a particular fat bullfrog and a fish named paul newman...

and she moved to...a bigger box

...she liked her bigger box"

oh yes...she liked it very much

abode

i live in a box

its a nice box, which i have decorated with hats and scarves and paintings by my sister.

i rarely have company in my box...which sounds like i don't get laid.

i keep piles of books on my nightstand because i have no bookshelf.

i keep my underwear in a 15 year old travel trunk because i have no dresser

i my trunk i also have six pairs of new shoes i have never bothered to break in, my entire collection of cd's and movies, empty spice jars for the kitchen i don't have, a parasite cleansing kit for the worms i probably have (you probably have them too), old journals dating back to 1993, several old bathing suits that i will never wear and my old hair-dyeing towel...just in case.

i'm like a fucking squirrel except i don't horde nuts...that also kinda sounds like i don't get laid.