back at the bird

red robin called me at daycare today to ask if i wanted to come in. there are better ways to spend your first shift than sweaty and smelling like dirty children, i'm sure.

i do solemnly swear not to fill my blog with serving stories, unless they're genuinely funny (like today, when chad got a table of blind people, and tanya says, 'but how are you going to talk to them?') or genuinely irksome (like today, when...a bunch of things happened). i know that most serving stories are appreciated only by other servers, who can then say, 'yeah, i hate that guy' (because 'that guy' is at every restaurant), and that most other people think that servers bitch too much. we do. servers spend exactly half their time getting paid way too much for the amount of work they're doing, and the other half getting paid way too little for the amount of shit they're putting up with.

so, this blog is just to say that i'm back at it, working at the ole dirty bird, and it's just like riding a bike (would all who appreciate the irony of that statement laugh here). it was a creepingly slow night, and they put me in the back section where they always forget to seat people. you might say i was eased in.

also, we got new shirts, and they're horrendous. check them out at your local reds starting monday.