Being sick is so fucking awesome when you work at a bar because you just get out of bed and go to work except you are carrying a bottle of robitussin like its a 40oz or whatever and get to take swigs off it all night in between drags on your cigarette. Also it is completely acceptable to just start drinking. I mean you CAME to work and you are SICK so isn't that enough? How can they expect you to be SOBER too???
Don't judge me bitches.
It is a commonly accepted fact that Jagermeister is the ultimate elixer of health. It erases any ailment even cramps or a sore throat or a phobia of making out with strangers. I just call it Vitamin J. Oh and I am not saying these nice things about it because I just want an excuse to drink it either because it makes me want to vomit. I'm sorry but my 40oz of robitussin tastes better than that shit.
Oh and I learned something funny last night too: I am a naughty little homewrecker not even on purpose. I work with all guys and there always has to be a rumor that I am fucking one of them because its in my contract or something. The one that I am currently "fucking" is ironically the only one who probably would not fuck me. Whatever. I wouldn't fuck any of them because they work with me and I don't have a problem with relationships in the workplace or whatever, but I know they don't make any money. Considering my gold digging whore-ism, I already know it wouldn't work out.
The point of the story is this: Poor people cannot buy you stuff therefore there is no reason to fuck them.
If you offered me anything, even something really good like a brand new Astin Martin or world peace or like a record deal... pretty much anything and all I had to do in exchange was re-live the past week... I would not only say no but also I would probably shoot you in the face because this past week was so bad I had seizures and I think developed narcolepsy or turned into a mobster or a republican or something else really assholey.
Okay not even the whole week just Saturday. Saturday is usually beautiful because it is our hip hop reprieve. Our salvation. The day we all look forward to. Because its white night. And nobody can say to me its racist to look forward to white night because I looked at the black employees last night and said: I'M SORRY BUT I LOVE THE WHITE PEOPLE BETTER BECAUSE THEY GIVE ME MONEY and if you want to pop a cap in me or whatever then fine because I speak the truth. And they were all HELL YEAH. See because white people rock. That is the fucking gospel.
But we got no white people on Saturday because the promoter sold the night out to hip hop. So my Thanksgiving included NOT ONLY waking up from my turkey coma on Thursday to work hip hop night, but also I had my white night revoked because as it turns out Jesus DOES NOT love everyone.
I should be grateful no one got shot on that night but I am pretty sure a few people got raped in the bathroom and even if someone did get shot I wouldn't care it would make me happy because by 1am I was standing at the bar going I HOPE YOU ALL GET AIDS AND DIE! and also I hope they get the really nasty painful herpes variety of AIDS because they aren't good enough for garden variety AIDS.
Every rapist, felon, pedophile, asshole and drug dealer in all of Las Vegas's dirty underbelly was there. The cops didn't even come because probably they were afraid. In fact, I heard another bar had a black party that same night except someone did get shot and I was jealous when I heard that because SHIT that bartender got to go home early and I didn't get home until 7am.
I spent the evening being haggled with, asked for free shit, argued with, spit at, yelled at, bossed around, told how to do my job, called bitch, grabbed inapproriately and most of all NOT TIPPED. And when I say that I know it sounds like I am exaggerating or whatever but what I mean when I say NOT TIPPED is that I sold $1000 worth of drinks and there were over 200 people there and I made TWENTY DOLLARS. And then I didn't even want the $20 because I felt like I had my soul surgically removed and that was my payment from the satan.
Saturday was a night that made me not even want money.
Here is when I had the seizure: A guy called me over to him so he could "tip me" and threw a quarter on the bar. A FUCKING QUARTER and it wasn't even like a state quarter or somehting cool from a casino or anything, I mean a fucking quarter that he probably used to scratch his losing lotto ticket earlier that day after he molested his son and drank a 40.
He says THAT IS FOR YOU.
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
asshole: what your going to take is personal? Its not a statement about YOU as a person.
I FUCKING KNOW THAT. ITS A STATEMENT ON YOU AS A PERSON. YOU CAN KEEP YOUR GODDAMNED QUARTER.
I locked myself in the beer cooler until I stopped shaking and when I came back the cook is all OKAY WHAT DID YOU BREAK?
Then my boss yelled at me because the guy went and COMPLAINED that I disrespected him because I didn't take his money. My boss told me from now on I have to say thank you whenever I am insulted* and I told him it wasn't my fault because I had a fucking seizure and I have narcolepsy and I am pretty sure I cannot have any disciplinary action against me for telling an asshole to fuck off when I have narcolepsy because that is a handicap. And besides I did it in a very tactful way because I am not completely devoid of common curtesy even though I am morally bankrupt.
The guy spent the rest of the night harassing me with his ten friends and then they followed a girl into the bathroom and tried to rape her. And that is the story of why REAL bars kick people out for causing problems instead of letting them stay. The only reason they even came there is because a real bar would not tolerate their degenerate behavior.
*After careul consideration and because of that ONE NIGHT I decided to look for a new job. Because of this one thing.
I don't really post here. I am still kind of attached or whatever to my blogspot. Don't know why.....
Love me
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