(no subject)
Do you know what makes the prison disappear? Every deep, genuine affection. Being friends, being brothers, loving, that is what opens the prison, with supreme power, by some magic force. Without these one stays dead. But whenever affection is revived, there life revives. - van Gogh
So, as I've said before, working fine dining, need food for workers. Management outlawed eating ANYTHING (even if you bring it yourself) but 'Staff Meal'. It comes out at two times 10:00-10:30ish or 3:30-4:00ish, and everyone pounces. This is setup for the waiters who work in the normal dining area. Banquet service - upstairs, which has non-standard hours, requires special attention to coordinate getting people fed. Well, finally, they had put the food out for us where we could get to it upstairs... I'm having a plate of food, this being my second shift of the day, 7-11 then 1-7:30 (one of the first times I've gotten a break between double shifts) 4:00, an hour into the wedding, scarfing down the food they put out for us. Owner comes in and asks me WTF I'm doing? There's no eating during service. It's a FUCKING 3 hour party JUST WAIT TO EAT AFTERWARDS! There's crap everywhere out there and my waiters are in the kitchen eating. But sir, we are taking turns eating the staff meal that they put here for us. WTF? He grabs my plate and throws it in the garbage can. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, YOU CAN WALK OUT!
High class.
I'm popping adderall's like m&ms, trying to not be hungry in the first place, and stay energetic. I'm drinking coffee, hoping that the caffeine will blunt my appetite. I don't drink any water, so that I don't have to go to the bathroom. I don't smoke, so I don't take breaks. I don't know anything else I can do to keep from eating.
I mean, it seems like when you are scheduled to work anywhere from 12-16 hours they might let you eat something. Maybe I should consult some pro-anorexia websites, and pro-low-calorie for health and long life websites to provide both negative and positive motivation to stop eating. Maybe Buddhism, 'there is no hunger', just my mind playing tricks on me.
Today, I bawled tears, on the Bride's beautiful day. The injustice of 1) being treated so badly over food that was for me, 2) I was deprived of a lovely Easter Sunday because "my job requires me to work on Sunday". In the liturgical schema, we killed Christ on Friday, and I didn't get to participate in the Victory of God. 3) That I would give my energies to what I can only assume is a psychologically unstable man (whether from some chemical imbalance or not) is perhaps not the best use of my time. 4) My family is dying off, one by one, Gramma in December, Uncle Buddy in February, and through all of that, I didn't cry.
Funny that death, as a part of the life cycle seems to make sense, and doesn't shake me to the core, but the Sisyphean effort that goes into setting up a banquet, feeding, serving wine and creating a beautiful evening for people, and tearing it down so that we can start all over again, compounded by the class issues that relate to being able to be oppressed, because I need a paycheck. I am a servant, and I'm entitled to nothing.
"Political rights do not exist because they have been legally set down on a piece of paper, but only when they have become the ingrown habit of a people, and when any attempt to impair them will meet with the violent resistance of the populace. Where this is not the case, there is no help in any parliamentary Opposition or any Platonic appeals to the constitution. One compels respect from others when he knows how to defend his dignity as a human being. ~" Rudolf Rocker
So, as I've said before, working fine dining, need food for workers. Management outlawed eating ANYTHING (even if you bring it yourself) but 'Staff Meal'. It comes out at two times 10:00-10:30ish or 3:30-4:00ish, and everyone pounces. This is setup for the waiters who work in the normal dining area. Banquet service - upstairs, which has non-standard hours, requires special attention to coordinate getting people fed. Well, finally, they had put the food out for us where we could get to it upstairs... I'm having a plate of food, this being my second shift of the day, 7-11 then 1-7:30 (one of the first times I've gotten a break between double shifts) 4:00, an hour into the wedding, scarfing down the food they put out for us. Owner comes in and asks me WTF I'm doing? There's no eating during service. It's a FUCKING 3 hour party JUST WAIT TO EAT AFTERWARDS! There's crap everywhere out there and my waiters are in the kitchen eating. But sir, we are taking turns eating the staff meal that they put here for us. WTF? He grabs my plate and throws it in the garbage can. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, YOU CAN WALK OUT!
High class.
I'm popping adderall's like m&ms, trying to not be hungry in the first place, and stay energetic. I'm drinking coffee, hoping that the caffeine will blunt my appetite. I don't drink any water, so that I don't have to go to the bathroom. I don't smoke, so I don't take breaks. I don't know anything else I can do to keep from eating.
I mean, it seems like when you are scheduled to work anywhere from 12-16 hours they might let you eat something. Maybe I should consult some pro-anorexia websites, and pro-low-calorie for health and long life websites to provide both negative and positive motivation to stop eating. Maybe Buddhism, 'there is no hunger', just my mind playing tricks on me.
Today, I bawled tears, on the Bride's beautiful day. The injustice of 1) being treated so badly over food that was for me, 2) I was deprived of a lovely Easter Sunday because "my job requires me to work on Sunday". In the liturgical schema, we killed Christ on Friday, and I didn't get to participate in the Victory of God. 3) That I would give my energies to what I can only assume is a psychologically unstable man (whether from some chemical imbalance or not) is perhaps not the best use of my time. 4) My family is dying off, one by one, Gramma in December, Uncle Buddy in February, and through all of that, I didn't cry.
Funny that death, as a part of the life cycle seems to make sense, and doesn't shake me to the core, but the Sisyphean effort that goes into setting up a banquet, feeding, serving wine and creating a beautiful evening for people, and tearing it down so that we can start all over again, compounded by the class issues that relate to being able to be oppressed, because I need a paycheck. I am a servant, and I'm entitled to nothing.
"Political rights do not exist because they have been legally set down on a piece of paper, but only when they have become the ingrown habit of a people, and when any attempt to impair them will meet with the violent resistance of the populace. Where this is not the case, there is no help in any parliamentary Opposition or any Platonic appeals to the constitution. One compels respect from others when he knows how to defend his dignity as a human being. ~" Rudolf Rocker