Rainy Monday

As much as I hate rainy days, they sometimes make me smile because rainy days never fail to bring people together, even in the smallest of ways. I realized this today when I was walking to work on Walnut St. with my rain boots on and my flimsy umbrella blowing inside out and I noticed that only on rainy days do people make eye contact and acknowledge each other. That is because on rainy days everyone has something in common: that they are miserable because of this weather and no one looks or feels their best. People look at each other and smile, or make some expression of sympathy, as if to say, "Yeah, doesn't this suck?" I saw a girl get splashed really bad by the bus and we looked at each other and I made a "Wow I'm sorry" face. Another guy turned to me at a red light and said, "Doesn't this suck?" Another woman saw my umbrella flipping inside out and gave me this look like she felt bad for me. Rainy days unite people. On sunny days no one even glances in other people's directions. Everyone is minding their own business, on their cell phones, walking quickly along. Rainy days have a way of connecting people. Everyone's wet. Everyone feels gross. Everyone feels bad for everyone and themselves.

Rainy days also mean that no one wants to come outside to go to the restaurant and so we were really dead today. BUT, there was one upside. Matt and I exchanged some very awkward comments and glances, because he stayed longer than usual. It's almost as if he was hanging around, like some sort of lost puppy dog, and coming back for little or no reasons, like he apparently forgot something...five or six times. Suspicious, I think. But then again, this may be my vivid imagination doing its best work. We will find out soon though! Because Our non relationship has been taken to the next level by today's extra weirdness. Ahh, rainy monday.

All is well on the counter front

So, on this coming wednesday I take one step farther away from the counter by starting my classes for scuba certification! Woo! AND, I was looking at scholarships today for the Institute of Culinary Education, which I am planning on going to next fall, and I should start the application processes in the spring, which is soon! Just need letters of recommendation, and my transcripts. Lots of work, but hopefully it will pay off by getting at least one scholarship.

As for work, I worked yesterday all day and it went okay I guess. I don't usually work saturdays but apparently I am now. This past week has been busy, outside of work that is. I went ice skating, went to Sheena's band's show to support her, and Henry's comedy thing to support him, and also went with my family to see a couple of new and exciting (and very talented!) musicians which was absolutely perfect. I bought one of their albums and it's fantastic. (Ian Axel--if anyone is interested in super awesome piano players/singers then look him up.)

Supposedly serving is going to ensue very soon, but I've been told that for over a month now. Training is apparently starting next week. I'll believe it when I see it.

Argument

Today was a typical day at the restaurant...ridiculous craziness. It was better than yesterday in terms of business--today we were busy but at least we were more prepared, unlike yesterday which was a disaster because we were swamped and completely understaffed. But before the rush, I was putting the specials in the menus minding my own business, when I realized, I have the specials! And that means...Matt must be here! He's probably been here for all of 2 minutes and I was wasting my time all by myself not even in view of him! I rushed back over to the counter, mainly just to gawk at him before he left. Like I said, it was a typical day.

The rest of the day was great, minus the fact that I got into an argument with one of the servers. I won't say names for this one. And by argument, I mean a REAL argument, not just a fake insult or petty bickering and then 5 minutes later things are back to normal. This was a real one and I was significantly upset, and by that I mean I went to the bathroom and cried. (I know, I'm so juvenile and overly emotional.) But it really upset me on a personal level because in the middle of that argument I had a realization of how similar this guy is to my dad. They both scream at you, talk down to you, talk over you, interrupt you, and are losers who do nothing with their lives! Every sentence, mid-sentence, he would interrupt me only to scream at me some pointless argument that makes no sense, probably just to feel like he has control because he's louder and listens the least.

Why do certain people feel the need to scream their way through life? Are they really that insecure that they feel they need to scream and condescend people in order to be heard? Or is it that they're angry to their very core that they just can't shake it, and when provoked it all emerges and spurts out like steam or lava?

I am soo in the wrong business. And while I'm on the subject of that, in my last post I talked (or I think I did) about getting certified for scuba diving, and since then I have made the call and I start January 27! (I think. Maybe the wednesday after that.) But I am so beyond excited, whether this is just for hobby purposes or if it rises to a career level, I don't care, I'm just happy to be doing something to better myself and to learn something new.

Happy hour

One of the best things about my job is that I get to draw and write all over the chalkboard walls for about 2 hours and then get free food for it because my boss thinks I don't like doing it. Because restaurant week is coming up very soon, I covered the wall above the bar with 'Restaurant Week' written huge, with the menu and price listed below. It was fun, but a little awkward because standing on a stool, my butt was facing the whole dining room. Also my neck hurt really bad afterwards, but still! It was fun. Then Matt, aka van driver delivery guy, came in, for the second time that day, and I completely swooned. I've quickly become quite obsessed with him. As I was standing on the stool, coloring away, I could only think and wonder about whether or not he would be coming a second time that day, and if he did, would I see him? Or would I miss him because I'm in the dining room, and maybe he won't see me? I kept checking. Every noise I heard, every time I heard a door close, I looked to see if it was him. (I'm so lame, I know.)

Well, he finally came! And of course I made some dumb excuse to come down off my stool and go into the kitchen, just to see him only for half a minute, just for some pitiful eye contact and a pathetic "hi." But it was worth it. He's just so...adorable.

After work, Sheena, Leann and I went to happy hour at National Mechanics in Old City. It was a good time, and I (it was only a matter of time until I told more people), of course told them about my crush on Matt after a few drinks. And they agreed with me! They said he's hot! Who could deny it? This crush is escalating as a fast pace...what will happen next? Who will I tell next? is more like it. I know this whole Matt thing is a little far fetched, but when your job is a lame as mine is, it's good to have silly little things to keep you looking forward to work everyday.

Working for a dream

One of the things I like least about my job is that I do so much work that isn't even in my job description and don't get paid nearly enough for it, but today I stood up for myself instead of letting people walk all over me. A couple days ago, my boss asked me to clean certain walls that had stains all over them, and also to do some dusting. I did it without complaining. But last night they redid the floors and because of all the sanding they did, there was sawdust everywhere, so I had to do that cleaning again. Specifically, I had to scrub at the baseboard of this certain wall because there was this grimy layer there. I also did that without complaining, but the residue just wouldn't come off. So later that day Gary told me to do it again and at this point I had hit my limit. So I told him I'm not doing it, that I already did it and the residue wouldn't come off, and if he really wanted it off then they should hire a real cleaning lady. His response was, "you're the cleaning lady." NO way. I am NOT your cleaning lady. I am the COUNTER girl and even that is a lowly position. Oh he makes me so mad. He would never ask a server to do that, but he asks me because I'm the counter girl and he has no respect for me. And that's why he is procrastinating making me a server for so long--because I always do things that need to be done that no one else wants to do. But no more! I'm only doing what's in my job description. Maybe if I got a raise then I would consider doing all that ridiculous crap but not now. Forget it.

Days like today are hard because I feel so wasteful of my own life. What am I doing? I'm a counter girl in a restaurant. It's going no where. I need to get on top of things, make things happen in my life, and eventually get out of this city. People say it's better to be at the bottom of a ladder you want to climb rather than halfway up one you have no interest in climbing. Well right now I'm at the bottom of one I don't want to climb, so I'm no where near where I want to be. I'm so anxious for things to happen, and I'm trying to make things happen, but nothing's happening! It's not like I'm not trying! I signed up for a spanish class 10 days ago and the teacher said she would call me back once she'd placed me in a class. She hasn't called. Then today I called the dive center in Philly to sign up for scuba certification classes and they moved their location to Glen Mills, which goodle maps said it would take 2 hours to get there by public transit! Argh! So THEN, I called a center in Lansdale, where I'm from, and I repeatedly got a busy signal. Why does the universe want me to stay a counter girl?

I'll call tomorrow. I'll call until something happens. Until then, I'm stuck in the restaurant business.

Monday

I haven't been updating this blog nearly as often as I'd like, but like I said, counter is pretty uneventful and so there's not much to write about. This morning, Henry, who suggested I start this blog, asked how it was going and of course he speaks so loudly that Nate and Justin heard him and so now they know I have a blog, about work, and I definitely don't want anyone from work reading this blog or even knowing about it. Henry doesn't count because it was his idea. So anyway, now I'm worried that someone will find it and read it and I didn't change any of the names on here and so I'm hoping this just stays a secret from all Marathon employees. Maybe I should have changed the names...

The restaurant closed early today because the floors are being redone and so it wasn't a normal day. But no day is ever really normal in that building. Today, a woman ordered a salad from me and she is the reason we have control freak salads. When you order a caesar salad, but change the dressing from caesar to balsamic vinaigrette, change the lettuce from romaine to iceberg lettuce, and add tomatoes and tuna, the only thing that's the same is the parmesan cheese. That in no way is a caesar salad! Nothing is the same! Only one thing is the same. And it isn't enough to keep calling it a caesar salad. But it's my theory that people do that (ALL the time) because by saying, "I'd like to order a control freak salad," they feel they're admitting "I'm a control freak." People would rather just steer clear of that term and call it another salad but change it so much that it's an entirely different thing. It's one of the most annoying things, but there is nothing I can do about it. I am entitled to kindly say that we do offer a control freak salad, but I feel like if I say that then they'll think I'm insulting them. So that's what I steer clear of.

In terms of Matt, aka van driver delivery guy, I told Laura (one of the bartenders) I liked him. And by 'like' I mean that I know nothing about him but still have some sort of weird fascination with him. I really had no choice. If you knew Laura, you would understand. First of all, she is, in my opinion, one of the coolest people I have ever met. She is the most honest and the most real person. And she asked who I liked at Marathon and I told her. I couldn't lie. And Laura is like a vault; she has so many secrets from so many people over the years at that restaurant that the news of my stupid little crush is like nothing to her. But now it's out there. One more person knows, besides the few people that read this blog, so I think that now is the point in time where this little fascination will either diminish to nothing at all or it will grow into something. Stay tuned:)

Birthday Eve

I haven't updated my blog in over a week, and so in light of the new year, I'm going to not quit doing this blog and keep it up by posting somewhat regularly. I'm trying very hard not to be a quitter, which is something I've always struggled with. Just today I was contemplating quitting my job. It was a nightmare today. It was so hectic on the counter, which was very unfortunate because it just so happens that today the computer system wasn't properly working, so I was writing down everyone's names, phone numbers, addresses, and credit card informations by hand, which was very inconvenient and took up a lot of extra time when I could have been working on other people's orders. So in my moments of stress and aggravation, I was thinking to myself, "I hate this place! I'm moving to South America!!" South America, why, I don't know. I have no idea, other than I just want to go there. And I have no real reason to go there, other than just because. And that's that. (But then again my philosophy for doing something is that you don't have to have any "real" reason for anything, other than the fact that you just want to do something. Wanting something is all you need.)

Speaking of South America, and other Latin American things, I signed up to take a Spanish class. I don't start for a little while (I still have yet to be placed in a class) but I am pretty excited to be starting something new in the new decade. I wanted so badly to continue with Italian, but I decided not to. Maybe that's because I'm a quitter, like I mentioned above, or maybe it's because I know all of zero people that speak Italian in Philadelphia. On the other hand, I know lots and lots of Spanish speaking people here. Besides, Spanish class is cheaper than Italian, and it is slightly (okay, a LOT) more practical considering there are so many more Spanish speaking countries in the world than there are Italian, and the fact that about half of the employees at my job speak Spanish.

Another breakthrough in 2010 so far is that I found out van driver's name! MATT! Ha... Not that that is going anywhere at all, but just for fun and also for the sake of some sort of budding friendship, if it could even be considered that much.

Tomorrow is my 21st birthday, and I am abnormally unexcited. Most people go crazy for their 21st birthdays, but I just don't see the reason for it. I have nothing against drinking, but I've never relied on it to have a good time. The last time I drank was this past weekend, and the time before that was July 4th. This past weekend was a reminder of how mediocre drinking really is. I went to a party at a friend of mine's, and it was a good time, but in the morning, when I woke up on her couch, I looked around and saw just how pathetic drinking can really make people. Across from me were to chairs, one of which were a guy and girl who had made out the night before, which I have no doubt that they regretted once they woke up, or at least felt awkward about, and the other was the guy who had been trying to get with that girl the whole night, and who ironically was forced to sleep opposite them only to wake up and see his failure and embarrassment staring him right in the face. And there I was, the only one awake at 8:30am because I was so uncomfortable from apparently sleeping slouched over the arm of the couch, on the corner of the couch in about a 1 square foot area (because I was on the ocuh with 2 other friends of mine). I put on the first pair of shoes that I saw and walked home. (My shoes gave me blisters the night before.) So to me, turning 21 is not a huge ordeal. Yes, I'll go and have drinks, but partying is not particularly my number 1 choice of entertainment.

As for work, Gary told me that I could finally start serving, BUT, and here's the catch, only as soon as I found someone to cover all my shifts on counter. Meaning I would have to find someone to have come and apply for the job, get it, then be trained, and then decide to stick with it and be a good enough employee to take my place. (I swear, my natural talents at counter have screwed me over so bad.) Well, I felt up to the challenge. And my search ended quicker than I thought it would because my genius friend Natalie suggested that she take Ian's night shifts, and he take my day shifts, and then I can be a server! So I told Gary and that was last week. And of course, nothing's happened. He said he had to speak to Ian and Natalie about it all, but I know that isn't going to happen for a long time. And I need to start serving soon, because I could really use the money. Not for bills, I have that, but for my yet to be announced summer excursions of course!! But all this waiting is totally not my thing, I'm getting really impatient!

PS- Tip your take out counter person, whoever they are! They deserve it!