I apologize for the delay in your regularly scheduled programming, however: life's been busy. I am now a graduate (with honors, in Honors) of Howard University School of Business and I have an absolutely amazing apartment in NY just waiting for me to move into. I'm all partied and traveled out! Hopefully I'll be able to handle Vegas next week and then NY again the week after that. Travel much?
Anyway, I'm back to give ya'll the run down on the happenings at The Club!
FRIDAY, MAY 1: Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!
It seems my boss has finally picked up on the fact that the interior of the club needs to be redone. New floors, new walls, electronic cash registers... the works. He called all the waitresses and bartenders into the back room to discuss new cleaning habits and practices at the club. He maintained that no longer would Mumbles and the other men of the cleanup crew be responsible for the bar and the tables because they were too old to do a good job. And that Grandame would still be welcome at the club, he loved her, but she had to go... "it's been 26 years of Grandame, but she can't handle the work now, it's time to let her go."
It's been 30 years of the club; it's time to bring it up to date.
Sometimes I think family-owned businesses, black ones in particular, are a little too attached to "The Good Ol' Days." I hope I never get like that. I always want to live in the moment, never yearning for the past. Never getting too comfortable with "the way it is."
SUNDAY, MAY 3: I Don't Need Your Money That Badly.
Nasty Old Man came back to the bar, still trying to get at me. I've noticed that he only tips $1. I'm getting tired of hearing his Nasty Old Man mouth, so I decided to stop being nice. Your $1 is not going to buy you my patience. $20 might.
"What can I get for you?" I asked.
"You. In a glass," he replied.
I rolled my eyes. "Do you know how many times I've heard that?"
"From me?"
"No. Just in general. You need to get a new line," I said with a hard edge to my voice while keeping a sweet smile.
He looked surprised.
"You said I'm probably as baaaad as you are; I'm showing you."
"That's okay, I want it," he winked.
Ugh. GO AWAY! He also offered the new waitress $400 to defecate and urinate on him. That just took him from Nasty Old Man to Triflin-Ass Nasty Old Man.
OLD PEOPLE ARE SO BELLIGERENT! So, I tried to enforce the new policy that waitresses must pay $5.50 anytime they get a fake drink, but Grandame was not having it. When I told her, her eyes bugged out and she shook her head, saying in her cigarette-scratched voice: "I'm not paying that!" and walked away.
How the hell are you supposed to lay down the law on a halfway senile woman old enough to be your grandmother?
BUT I CAN LAY DOWN THE LAW ON DRUNKEN STRIPPERS! Halfway through the night, one of the other dancers came up to me shaking her head, "The bar is cut off for Drunkie. No more."
I gave a knowing, half-smile. "How many has she had?"
"I don't know, but she can't have anymore."
Later on during the night, Drunkie came up to the bar to ask for a drink.
I shook my head. "You can have water, soda, or juice."
"But I want liquor," she pouted.
"No liquor."
"But I've been drinking all night!"
Uh... dur! Therein lies the problem: you've been drinking all night and you can't handle your liquor.
"I can give you water, soda, or juice," I repeated.
"Nevermind," she pouted again and walked upstairs to the dressing room.
I CAN DRINK, HOWEVER! BWAHAHA! Someone ordered an Apple Martini and didn't have enough money to pay for it, so my manager split it with me. And then she offered me a Cuervo Margarita. I was definitely buzzed behind the bar, but I, unlike Drunkie, can hold my liquor. Actually, is it a bad sign that after two drinks you can still do your job (and do it well)? Doesn't that make me, like, a functional alcoholic or something? =(
WEDNESDAY, MAY 6: See No Evil, Hear No Evil
Things I Wish I Hadn't Seen:
1. One of the dancers diddling herself on stage. Gross.
2. Other women's vaginas, period. Breasts, whatever, I don't care... but I'm really tired of seeing coochie.
3. This man who comes up to the bar flexing his muscles and dancing in the mirror. Every time. It's just really disturbing.
4. A group of Ques hopping in the club. Really? Really.
Things I Wish I Hadn't Heard:
1. One of the Ques trying to get at me. I'm too young for you sir, and I don't feel bad about telling a man in his 30s that he's too old for me. We're on different planes. And I'm not interested in casual sex... I have a problem with people touching me when I'm not emotionally attached to them... while sober.
2. More of my manager's issues with her ex. Talking about what might happen isn't going to make what you want to happen come true. Stop beating a frickin dead horse! It's over! Talking about it every damn day isn't going to do anyone any good, especially not me. Stop asking other people what he might be thinking, why he did such-and-such, or what he'll end up doing. No one knows! He might not even know! It's over, leave it.
SUNDAY, MAY 10: It's A Celebration, Bitches!
So, I graduated May 9. My managers both texted to congratulate me. And when I went to work, Big Sis let me have a drink on the house. Can I Holla gave me a hug. All my customers who knew gave me congrats and advice.
Anyone who says black people, even those without an education, don't value education is deluded. We do, it's just that some of us don't see it as a viable course of action. That doesn't mean they don't see the value of it; they just don't see its relevance to their lives (or believe that they can go after it). And therein lies the problem... why isn't an education relevant for some segment of our population.
*Gets off soapbox*
Four Brits walked in to celebrate their friend graduating from Howard as well. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from swooning at the accents. Nothing sexier than a black man with a British accent. Hell, all of them weren't even black... there's nothing sexier than a British accent: period.
"May I have a Co-rooo-na?"
Yes you may. Would you like my number as well? *Bats eyelashes*
Also... I'm going to miss tending bar in DC. Of course, people aren't as nice here as they are in the south-south, but they're nicer than they are in NY. Here, even the street thugs say please and thank you.
QUOTE OF THE WEEKEND:
My boss, while explaining the new way things were going to run at the club:
"These are your mangers. Everyone who works behind the bar is a manager. You've got Big Sis, Li'l Mama, Cinnamon, and... (he paused when he got to me) Madeline."
Would he stop calling me MADELINE!?! I know he knows my name!
No comments:
Post a Comment