Oh my oh my oh my...

I saw the epitome of redneck chic last night. I swear. The person who came up with the idea of a RealTree (tm) vest and bowtie set should be shot. The first idiot who decided it would be a good idea to wear it to his senior prom should be beaten briskly about the head and shoulders with a branch of whatever trees are in that pattern. I'm not sure that, were I your date, I would appreciate the symbolism of you wearing a hunting pattern to our prom. YMMV, of course.

There are several high schools in the area, and so, the proms have been spread over the last several weekends, to avoid some horrible rush on tuxedo shops and hairdressers I suppose, and so, we've been seeing lots and lots of prom kids at the restaurant.

Let me set a few things straight.

One- I was never that young. Ever. Even if I was ever that young, I certainly wasn't that sophisticated looking at 17.

Two- Guys, you'll impress your date more if you leave the servers more than $6 on a $60 bill. I promise. If you leave a shitty tip, you look like a cheap bastard who probably bought the corsage at Wally World and got it off the day-old rack.

If you have the money to take your date out to Saltgrass, and blow a wad of Daddy's money on a t-bone, you have enough on Daddy's credit card to leave your server a decent fucking tip. There's a reason we all cringe when you walk in the door. Figure it out, and when you end up slinging trays during college, I hope to God you get a dose of what you handed out.

Oh yeah, and wipe that snotty look off your face. You are not better than I am, actually. You just happen to be stuck in that obnoxious phase known as the teenage years, and you will, eventually, end up doing a job you hate to make ends meet. In fact, I might see you in here in a few years.

Three- I don't care if it's the most important day of your young life. There are other people in the restaurant, and they're paying to eat here, too. I don't get to spend all my time fawning over you and your date, and I wouldn't want to, even if I had the spare time. Get over yourselves. None of us are really longing for the "good old days" since most of them weren't that good, and you couldn't pay me enough to go back to high school.

Evidently, I'm doing something wrong. I didn't even break a bill last night, and that hasn't happened on a weekend in what seems like forever. My sales were $780 and I only made $96. Gah.

I had some good tips, but one table, who was evidently pissed off because I control the beer cooler and I wanted their beers to not be ice-fucking-cold, left me $7 and change on an $82 bill. Thank you very much. Kindly fuck off and eat worms. And take your obnoxious son with you. Oh, and feed your daughter, man. Give the skinny waif a fucking cheeseburger with fries and a milkshake. She's boney and icky.

I don't mind working the bar patio since it's not smoking any more, but the wooden floors are a pain the butt to clean! Agh. And I almost landed on my can when I slipped on a ice cube. Don't even get me started about the idiot I was working with. He's known as "the guy I'd rather poke my eyes out with glass skewers than talk to" and he's almost indescribably condescending and bossy. I didn't feel like arguing with him over a table, since I just didn't have that much antacid, but I should have. By not putting my foot down over the system, I let him win. Drat.

So...today is going to be hellish, since it's Mother's Day. I love the idea of honoring our moms, I really do. However, everyone needs to realize that everyone else also wants to take Mom out to eat, and that every single restaurant in San Antonio is going to be slammed. Be patient. Don't be a dork. Your server does not control anything with regards to seating, how fast things come out of the kitchen, or anything else that isn't on your table. Got it? Thank you. Oh, and tip. We're not getting to spend the day with Mom, so be nice, please.

Woke up this morning, and almost just rolled back over and crashed out again, but the urge to get up and go to church won out. Drat, huh? Woke up too late to take a shower before work, and the hair looked rather like something out of a black-and-white Frankenstein movie, so I threw a headscarf on and went to church. Modesty born of lack of time, I suppose. I actually like having my hair covered and a minimum of makeup, but I swear, I've gotten more funny looks. I suppose I look like a cancer patient or Jewish. Ah well. I still like it.

Now, on to getting home phone service hooked up and then...internet! Woooo hoooo! I'm leaving to see the in-laws on Thursday, and taking the truck in to the shop, too. That way, I don't have to pay for a rental car, and my poor truck will be nice and shiny when I get home. Yay. The best part will be that my headlights will point in the correct direction, and I'll actually be able to see when I drive at night. Wheeeeee!