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I totally lied about the serious business part, of course. But all my bitching and moaning about being bored out here has been satiated, for now, I think.
First and foremost, my upstairs looks a thousand times better with painted walls. Yes, they were all ugly and patch-y all winter. Now every room is a different color. I am a big fan of colored walls. It wouldn't have occurred to me, ever, except for Daniel used to paint houses as his job and he always talked about what color rooms did what kinds of things to your brain and stuff, and I guess it rubbed off on me or something, because I was determined, from the very beginning, not to have a white wall in the whole place. And I don't. It looks so great. I'm so impressed with myself. Lol yeah right. I'm impressed with my painters. I didn't do much - I hardly did anything, really. And I spent... oh, I spent about a thousand dollars. But that includes the paint, too. And really, that ain't bad.
But you see... I can see myself preparing to spend another chunk of money on something totally unnecessary. It's a piece of electronics and I WANT IT.
Not buying it, though. Not this week, anyway.
So not buying it.
I have neighbors. I've always had neighbors, but see, it's their summer house. They rent it out sometimes and sometimes they live in it, but only ever in the summer. But they were here this weekend getting it ready for the summer, I guess, and they had a rockin' party last night. And so my "paint-the-house" event kind of got absorbed into their party. Someone went out to get a case of beer, and everyone was welcomed on over. That's how it works around here I guess: as long as you bring beer, you're good.
So, for the second weekend in a row, I got pretty drunk. It was a good time, on the one hand, but on the other hand, it just made me miss being around my real friends even more.
Anyway.
So I got to work tonight, and my manager Rich (the one I don't really like) was like, I need to talk to you, and I, of course, was like, well shit, now what? My hours got cut at my other job, is that about to happen to me here too?
But he was like, Lara, I need you to be my to-go person tonight.
And first I was like, 0.o
And then I was like, no way. I'm not going in the kitchen. I never go in the kitchen unless the restaurant isn't even open or something. I consider it to be particularly hazardous in there. And I was told that as a hostess there was no reason to go in the kitchen anyway - we wear headsets, if we need to talk to someone who's in the kitchen, we just use the headset anyway. Or at least, I do. Even if I want to get a soda or something, I usually ask someone else to go get it for me. No one has ever objected to that.
And then I was like, no way. That's not even fair, the servers tip out the to-go person for helping them in the dining room, and I can't do that either. He pointed out that the servers tip me out anyway, cause I roll their silverware and fill their sugars and clean their ketchup bottles at the end of the night, and, well, that is true...
He said all I had to do was answer the phone and ring in the orders, and someone in the kitchen would pack them up and a server would bring them to the bar, and I just had to take care of the guests, take their money and double check their order and stuff, and if I needed to help out somewhere I could just help the hosts.
And I was so not convinced this was a good idea - if I host, I get paid my hourly pay plus the automatic tip share for the night. Usually comes out to about 12-13 dollars an hour combined. (Plus the extra 30 or 40 bucks from servers for doing their sidework...) To-go people don't get the automatic tip share. Just minimum wage, plus whatever tips people leave on their take out orders. And the servers are supposed to tip out the tp-go person, but, like I said, I can't really accept their tips if I don't do anything for them. I can't run their food or fill their drinks or anything at all, really, so definitely can't take a tip.
But really, it worked out all right. It was kinda cool to get to do something different, especially since I don't even like being a hostess to begin with. It wouldn't have worked if we didn't all wear headsets - usually the to-go person is supposed to answer the phone, but I wasn't always near the phone and can't really run for it when it rings, but whoever answered the phone just put the person on hold and told me over the headset to pick up. And ringing in stuff was easy enough. Pretty self-explanatory.
And the only servers who "tipped me" were the ones who paid me to do their sidework. I wouldn't take any money from the rest of them - that just isn't right. Except for the closers, they each gave me five bucks, because if there was no to-go person, they would have to do all the to-gos while they were waiting tables too.
So, I'd do it again if the situation ever comes up again. It was okay.
Then Bevan asked me if I needed a ride (he is one of my most likely choices when I start looking for a way to/from work - which yes, is frustrating and embarrassing, I know) and said he was going to the bar but not staying long because he was tired. I said that was cool, I'd go and have one beer and then go home. But we were the only ones from work that actually went to the bar, so he and I just sat there with our beers and talked about stuff. So we kind of got to catch up, because I feel like I haven't gotten much of a chance to really talk to him.
Of course, the whole random-sex business may have been a big factor in that... right. Not a good idea to randomly sleep with people you're trying to make friends with that. I got that memo loud and clear, thanks!
Actually we each had two beers, kind of without thinking. We were both like, wait, aren't we tired, weren't we just going to have one? But it was two.
And you know? Our talk kind of made me see my life a little differently... whenever I have these "so tell me about yourself" conversations, well, I've got a lot of interesting things to say, haven't I, I mean, me with all my traveling and stuff. And one of Bevan's big things is getting the hell out of this town. So of course he finds all my travels and stuff pretty interesting.
Bevan has dropped me off at my house tons of times. He brings me home from work or the bar or the diner often enough. But I've never, ever asked him inside, because I never wanted him to think I wanted us to hook up or something, and the house was always such a disaster inside. But I told him how the upstairs was all painted and fab-looking, and I guess I wasn't describing it very well, because he wasn't getting how peach and green and yellow and blue walls would be anything other than hideous, so when he brought me back we went upstairs so I could show him. And in the upstairs fridge I found a lone Guiness. I don't know where it came from. I didn't have any Guiness in my fridge as of yesterday. And after last night, I was pretty sure I was totally cleaned out alcohol-wise, since there was kind of a party here and next door together. I mean, the beer I had was for the painters anyway, I wasn't expecting to have any left, but, Guiness? Where did that come from, anyway?
Then I showed Bevan my downstairs and my whole speaker set-up and my extra fridge that I want to use like a closet and we decided to split the Guiness and I burned him a copy of Windows XP because he decided (belatedly, IMO) to give up on Vista. I don't thing he ever realized, for all I talk about the place, that I actually own this house. Well, now he knows.
Incidentally, he is also sleeping on my couch right now. It's like, almost one am. He said the Guiness made him tired (tired-er?) cause it's so thick. But he drank most of it, I only had like a few sips. Not really my thing, Guiness. I said he was welcome to my couch if he'd rather not drive back tonight, and I totally thought he'd be like, nah I'm fine, but he was like, if you don't mind. So now Bevan is asleep on my very ugly couch that has been in this house for longer than I've been alive. I think there might be pictures of me playing on that couch when I was like two years old, somewhere, in somebody's picture album. Probably. Whatever, it's my couch now.
The sun is gonna wake him up tomorrow, I'm sure, cause it gets really bright in the living room in the mornings and there are no curtains up down here. I have the curtains, I just didn't think to put them up. And I have to leave for work in... geez, three and a half hours? So the sun waking me up in the mornings is so never an issue.
...I can't believe there is a boy sleeping over at my house. That isn't Matt.
Does this mean that we're actually friends now?
First and foremost, my upstairs looks a thousand times better with painted walls. Yes, they were all ugly and patch-y all winter. Now every room is a different color. I am a big fan of colored walls. It wouldn't have occurred to me, ever, except for Daniel used to paint houses as his job and he always talked about what color rooms did what kinds of things to your brain and stuff, and I guess it rubbed off on me or something, because I was determined, from the very beginning, not to have a white wall in the whole place. And I don't. It looks so great. I'm so impressed with myself. Lol yeah right. I'm impressed with my painters. I didn't do much - I hardly did anything, really. And I spent... oh, I spent about a thousand dollars. But that includes the paint, too. And really, that ain't bad.
But you see... I can see myself preparing to spend another chunk of money on something totally unnecessary. It's a piece of electronics and I WANT IT.
Not buying it, though. Not this week, anyway.
So not buying it.
I have neighbors. I've always had neighbors, but see, it's their summer house. They rent it out sometimes and sometimes they live in it, but only ever in the summer. But they were here this weekend getting it ready for the summer, I guess, and they had a rockin' party last night. And so my "paint-the-house" event kind of got absorbed into their party. Someone went out to get a case of beer, and everyone was welcomed on over. That's how it works around here I guess: as long as you bring beer, you're good.
So, for the second weekend in a row, I got pretty drunk. It was a good time, on the one hand, but on the other hand, it just made me miss being around my real friends even more.
Anyway.
So I got to work tonight, and my manager Rich (the one I don't really like) was like, I need to talk to you, and I, of course, was like, well shit, now what? My hours got cut at my other job, is that about to happen to me here too?
But he was like, Lara, I need you to be my to-go person tonight.
And first I was like, 0.o
And then I was like, no way. I'm not going in the kitchen. I never go in the kitchen unless the restaurant isn't even open or something. I consider it to be particularly hazardous in there. And I was told that as a hostess there was no reason to go in the kitchen anyway - we wear headsets, if we need to talk to someone who's in the kitchen, we just use the headset anyway. Or at least, I do. Even if I want to get a soda or something, I usually ask someone else to go get it for me. No one has ever objected to that.
And then I was like, no way. That's not even fair, the servers tip out the to-go person for helping them in the dining room, and I can't do that either. He pointed out that the servers tip me out anyway, cause I roll their silverware and fill their sugars and clean their ketchup bottles at the end of the night, and, well, that is true...
He said all I had to do was answer the phone and ring in the orders, and someone in the kitchen would pack them up and a server would bring them to the bar, and I just had to take care of the guests, take their money and double check their order and stuff, and if I needed to help out somewhere I could just help the hosts.
And I was so not convinced this was a good idea - if I host, I get paid my hourly pay plus the automatic tip share for the night. Usually comes out to about 12-13 dollars an hour combined. (Plus the extra 30 or 40 bucks from servers for doing their sidework...) To-go people don't get the automatic tip share. Just minimum wage, plus whatever tips people leave on their take out orders. And the servers are supposed to tip out the tp-go person, but, like I said, I can't really accept their tips if I don't do anything for them. I can't run their food or fill their drinks or anything at all, really, so definitely can't take a tip.
But really, it worked out all right. It was kinda cool to get to do something different, especially since I don't even like being a hostess to begin with. It wouldn't have worked if we didn't all wear headsets - usually the to-go person is supposed to answer the phone, but I wasn't always near the phone and can't really run for it when it rings, but whoever answered the phone just put the person on hold and told me over the headset to pick up. And ringing in stuff was easy enough. Pretty self-explanatory.
And the only servers who "tipped me" were the ones who paid me to do their sidework. I wouldn't take any money from the rest of them - that just isn't right. Except for the closers, they each gave me five bucks, because if there was no to-go person, they would have to do all the to-gos while they were waiting tables too.
So, I'd do it again if the situation ever comes up again. It was okay.
Then Bevan asked me if I needed a ride (he is one of my most likely choices when I start looking for a way to/from work - which yes, is frustrating and embarrassing, I know) and said he was going to the bar but not staying long because he was tired. I said that was cool, I'd go and have one beer and then go home. But we were the only ones from work that actually went to the bar, so he and I just sat there with our beers and talked about stuff. So we kind of got to catch up, because I feel like I haven't gotten much of a chance to really talk to him.
Of course, the whole random-sex business may have been a big factor in that... right. Not a good idea to randomly sleep with people you're trying to make friends with that. I got that memo loud and clear, thanks!
Actually we each had two beers, kind of without thinking. We were both like, wait, aren't we tired, weren't we just going to have one? But it was two.
And you know? Our talk kind of made me see my life a little differently... whenever I have these "so tell me about yourself" conversations, well, I've got a lot of interesting things to say, haven't I, I mean, me with all my traveling and stuff. And one of Bevan's big things is getting the hell out of this town. So of course he finds all my travels and stuff pretty interesting.
Bevan has dropped me off at my house tons of times. He brings me home from work or the bar or the diner often enough. But I've never, ever asked him inside, because I never wanted him to think I wanted us to hook up or something, and the house was always such a disaster inside. But I told him how the upstairs was all painted and fab-looking, and I guess I wasn't describing it very well, because he wasn't getting how peach and green and yellow and blue walls would be anything other than hideous, so when he brought me back we went upstairs so I could show him. And in the upstairs fridge I found a lone Guiness. I don't know where it came from. I didn't have any Guiness in my fridge as of yesterday. And after last night, I was pretty sure I was totally cleaned out alcohol-wise, since there was kind of a party here and next door together. I mean, the beer I had was for the painters anyway, I wasn't expecting to have any left, but, Guiness? Where did that come from, anyway?
Then I showed Bevan my downstairs and my whole speaker set-up and my extra fridge that I want to use like a closet and we decided to split the Guiness and I burned him a copy of Windows XP because he decided (belatedly, IMO) to give up on Vista. I don't thing he ever realized, for all I talk about the place, that I actually own this house. Well, now he knows.
Incidentally, he is also sleeping on my couch right now. It's like, almost one am. He said the Guiness made him tired (tired-er?) cause it's so thick. But he drank most of it, I only had like a few sips. Not really my thing, Guiness. I said he was welcome to my couch if he'd rather not drive back tonight, and I totally thought he'd be like, nah I'm fine, but he was like, if you don't mind. So now Bevan is asleep on my very ugly couch that has been in this house for longer than I've been alive. I think there might be pictures of me playing on that couch when I was like two years old, somewhere, in somebody's picture album. Probably. Whatever, it's my couch now.
The sun is gonna wake him up tomorrow, I'm sure, cause it gets really bright in the living room in the mornings and there are no curtains up down here. I have the curtains, I just didn't think to put them up. And I have to leave for work in... geez, three and a half hours? So the sun waking me up in the mornings is so never an issue.
...I can't believe there is a boy sleeping over at my house. That isn't Matt.
Does this mean that we're actually friends now?