(no subject)
There was much rejoicing after I finished finals on Wednesday. It seemed, for bright, shining moment, that I would have enough free time to get caught up on my flist and possibly even resume my love affair exploitative but satisfying relationship with the movie theater.
Oh naivete! Oh foolish, foolish optimism!
I managed a clandestine meeting with "United 93" just after exams, but my plans for future cinematic joy were scuttled when I arrived at work for the audit. One of my coworkers had had a death in the family, and I was begged to take her Friday morning shift at Comfort Inn. There were desperate tones, appeals to my compassion, and flattery! Clearly, I was helpless to resist.
After the unexpected Comfort Inn shift, I headed over to Anthony's for my regularly scheduled Friday evening shift, went home to sleep for a few hours, and skipped off to Comfort Inn again at 6:30am, a little tired, but content in the knowledge that I would have the evening off. I was planning on spending this free time as God intended free time be spent: tooling around online and going to see movies. I had just opened up my computer to solicit
quintos's movie-going advice--an effort in frustration, as she resisted a serious discussion of the merits of spelling bee vs maverick!gymnastics subject matter simply because she had neither heard of them nor seen them advertised--when the shrill, phone-like sound of DOOM filled the house.
"Anthony's" flashed upon the Caller ID screen in demonic red lettering.
I briefly considered taking evasive action before my mother could answer. Sadly, neither a desperate leap out the second floor window nor the ferocious denial of my own existence seemed viable options, so I picked up the phone. Natalie hadn't come in for work. There were desperate tones, appeals to my compassion, and offers of free food. Naturally, that last one was the clincher.*
I got there shortly after they had opened, and mostly just worked backup--making salads, bussing tables, and taking a few tables when the Servers Who Were Actually Supposed To Be There were too busy. For my trouble, I got a little extra tip money, a bunch of sushi, two large rounds of baked brie, a large To Go box full of grapes, a dirty martini, and two gin&tonics (all mixed strong...I don't think Tony considers tonic a necessary part of a gin&tonic). Not bad in the way of compensation, but not a workload of which I want to make a habit.
In a few hours, I have to head back to Comfort Inn again. Goal: become more dispensable.
* For those of you who are noticing a pattern, I would like to take this opportunity to state unequivocally that I am not a complete push-over.
Oh naivete! Oh foolish, foolish optimism!
I managed a clandestine meeting with "United 93" just after exams, but my plans for future cinematic joy were scuttled when I arrived at work for the audit. One of my coworkers had had a death in the family, and I was begged to take her Friday morning shift at Comfort Inn. There were desperate tones, appeals to my compassion, and flattery! Clearly, I was helpless to resist.
After the unexpected Comfort Inn shift, I headed over to Anthony's for my regularly scheduled Friday evening shift, went home to sleep for a few hours, and skipped off to Comfort Inn again at 6:30am, a little tired, but content in the knowledge that I would have the evening off. I was planning on spending this free time as God intended free time be spent: tooling around online and going to see movies. I had just opened up my computer to solicit
quintos's movie-going advice--an effort in frustration, as she resisted a serious discussion of the merits of spelling bee vs maverick!gymnastics subject matter simply because she had neither heard of them nor seen them advertised--when the shrill, phone-like sound of DOOM filled the house.
"Anthony's" flashed upon the Caller ID screen in demonic red lettering.
I briefly considered taking evasive action before my mother could answer. Sadly, neither a desperate leap out the second floor window nor the ferocious denial of my own existence seemed viable options, so I picked up the phone. Natalie hadn't come in for work. There were desperate tones, appeals to my compassion, and offers of free food. Naturally, that last one was the clincher.*
I got there shortly after they had opened, and mostly just worked backup--making salads, bussing tables, and taking a few tables when the Servers Who Were Actually Supposed To Be There were too busy. For my trouble, I got a little extra tip money, a bunch of sushi, two large rounds of baked brie, a large To Go box full of grapes, a dirty martini, and two gin&tonics (all mixed strong...I don't think Tony considers tonic a necessary part of a gin&tonic). Not bad in the way of compensation, but not a workload of which I want to make a habit.
In a few hours, I have to head back to Comfort Inn again. Goal: become more dispensable.
* For those of you who are noticing a pattern, I would like to take this opportunity to state unequivocally that I am not a complete push-over.