Drive By Update
Still here, promise, just busy.
On my way out of work tonight, got harassed by a crazy man ranting and raving. When he started picking up (fist sized) rocks to throw at us, I grabbed my baristas and one of my regulars who was hanging around outside and made everyone go back into the store for safety while I called 911. Then the crazy guy decided that the locked doors meant he couldn't get to us and stalked over to another group of guys in the parking lot and threw the rocks at them, instead. They got in their cars and tried to run him over. It was pretty fucked up. We were watching all the action from inside and I was giving the 911 operator a play by play. Six squad cars showed up in, like, two minutes. The guy was still stalking around my complex yelling at people coming out of one of the restaurants, but the guys who'd tried to run him over had all taken off.
Tomorrow is day fourteen of a fourteen day run with no days off, the last six days in a row being closes. How many times can I use the word "day" in a sentence? Like, I'm not going to complain because I have a job, which is more than a lot of people can say, and I was supposed to have two days off but I picked up shifts, but I'm tired. I have one more eight hour mid shift, then two days off in a row. That never happens. I'm going to spend most of my time off sleeping.
I may or may not be writing a story where Spencer Smith is a bitchy, nelly makeup artist who also plays drums in a punk band made up of drag queens. It may or may not ever see the light of day. I'm not quite sure what the plot is going to be. Brendon's the love interest (of course), and he might be the brother of the bride whose makeup Spencer does on her wedding day or he might be the groom-to-be and Spencer does her makeup for their engagement photos. The second option would lead to much more drama, but I'm not sure it's the route I want to take.
I have to be up for work in five hours. I call shenanigans on my life.
On my way out of work tonight, got harassed by a crazy man ranting and raving. When he started picking up (fist sized) rocks to throw at us, I grabbed my baristas and one of my regulars who was hanging around outside and made everyone go back into the store for safety while I called 911. Then the crazy guy decided that the locked doors meant he couldn't get to us and stalked over to another group of guys in the parking lot and threw the rocks at them, instead. They got in their cars and tried to run him over. It was pretty fucked up. We were watching all the action from inside and I was giving the 911 operator a play by play. Six squad cars showed up in, like, two minutes. The guy was still stalking around my complex yelling at people coming out of one of the restaurants, but the guys who'd tried to run him over had all taken off.
Tomorrow is day fourteen of a fourteen day run with no days off, the last six days in a row being closes. How many times can I use the word "day" in a sentence? Like, I'm not going to complain because I have a job, which is more than a lot of people can say, and I was supposed to have two days off but I picked up shifts, but I'm tired. I have one more eight hour mid shift, then two days off in a row. That never happens. I'm going to spend most of my time off sleeping.
I may or may not be writing a story where Spencer Smith is a bitchy, nelly makeup artist who also plays drums in a punk band made up of drag queens. It may or may not ever see the light of day. I'm not quite sure what the plot is going to be. Brendon's the love interest (of course), and he might be the brother of the bride whose makeup Spencer does on her wedding day or he might be the groom-to-be and Spencer does her makeup for their engagement photos. The second option would lead to much more drama, but I'm not sure it's the route I want to take.
I have to be up for work in five hours. I call shenanigans on my life.