Why the fuck can’t I write? I’m afflicted. I’m trying to think if I’m in denial about something. No. If anything I’m oddly apathetic to a lot of shit right now.
I’m not apathetic to Lazy Girl. She’s been working that nerve this week. Starts out the week (on Tuesday) in a bad mood. Jay loves it when she’s in a bad mood because he just rides her ass as hard as he can. He baits her continuously and she’s not inclined to let it roll off like I am. He tries but he knows I’m apathetic to his attempts to raise my ire, acknowledging that he doesn’t really want to rouse the sleeping scorpion, he just likes to poke at it.
As disinclined as I am to take her side on just about anything, I have pointedly expressed my displeasure at the asshattery that flows so easily from the depths of his lungs. I don’t defend her when they talk about her work ethic because they are blatantly outspoken and truthful, especially Josiah, who works evening shift. He flat tells her, “Girl, you are LAZY!” I do speak up when it becomes a bit too personal, although she has no trouble snapping back at them.
Adelaide made her cry today. Or, she was just pretending, I’m not sure and I don’t care. I walked in this morning and had the GM tell me, “We have a 24 top at 11:30, the room needs to be set.” Twenty-four????? Do we even have 24 chairs? (Answer is: Yes, right after I drug one up from downstairs.) So, I sat up the three folded tables, put the table clothes on them, put the 24 chairs in that had just been moved out the night before, and started prepping lemons, butter, and condiments while Adelaide set the table (formal setting) and made an extra pan of bread.
Then we poured ice in the glasses and then they had to set beverages up because it was the Beverage People. Oh, did I mention we also had to do all of the regular work that we do before we open in the morning.
So, Lazy Girl set up the bar and set up cans of soda in straight lines. Adelaide and I did everything else. The result of this and our other regular tables was 4 racks of glasses, two flats of silverware, a dining room that looked like a bomb had exploded in it, and a massive cleaning job. All of which Adelaide and I took care of. Adelaide also had to help her in the conference room and we all know who got the brunt of that workload.
So, when Lazy Girl wanted help carrying soda downstairs, Adelaide told her, politely, that since he and I had set the room and were now polishing glasses and silverware that it was only fair that she take the soda downstairs herself. Yeah, she went back into the conference room and then came out and asked that we watch the door, that she had to go to the restroom. She was crying.
Airy, the pastry chef, saw her on the stairwell and came up asking us, “Who she saltin’ over? Whad ya’ll do?” We just shook our heads and he said, “Oh, ya’ll made her work, huh?”
And that is just one reason why I love my job.