Not remembering how you got home the night before and walking into work with your coworker laughing is not a good sign. I got to work and was asked if I was feeling better with the sort of facial expression which hints I was a mess. "We had to pick you up off the bar" alright from now on no more jager bombs before 1 a.m. especially because I work at a gay bar. Being the only straight guy there makes for interesting, humorous, and sometimes awkward evenings. Though I cannot say that I'd want to work a different part time job as a replacement for what I have now.
This Saturday night was pretty mellow and it's always nice when a slow pace of customers doesn't affect the tip out at the end of the night. Both of the bartenders who were off decided to come in to drink which is always a good time. I made my first shots behind the bar and enjoyed a few chocolate cake shots throughout the night. I said no jager bombs before 1 but all others are still game. The only drama was in the beginning where an intoxicated beyond necessity of limits man stormed out of the bar and punched a dent into a truck...I was like FUCK if that was my face I'd be OUT.
Doors close and as always staff goes down into the quarry AKA THE DUNGEON to wait for the actual closing AKA late night shots slash burn sesh on occasion. Ended up getting 45 cash money for tips and the manager paid me cash for my check so I left with a buck fourty five SON. I tried the food thing across the street and the steak and cheese was shitty like a piece of shit in a latrine.
Sunday = wake and bake = all day with MAYBE a lil gym later
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment