I don't know why I didn't post this at the time.. it was months ago... but here it is.. a little insight into what it was like to stop working two jobs. Which tends to be very often for me. As a matter of fact I ended it by saying don't let me get another 2nd job before January. Welp, it's January and I'm pretty sure by March I will be working as a bev cart girl at some golf course. Second jobs here I come again.. oh crap.I'm an idiot.. but anyway back to the point.. I had JUST left my second job hostessing at a really super crazy strict restaurant in my area. And I hated every minute of the actual job, but the people and social factor were incredible.... enjoy.
Do you hear the music?
Imagine a ring master, some elephants and feathered ladies, clowns and more.
It's circus music.
I just left my second job and as I was leaving I learned something very interesting.
I am a character.
DOUBLE YOU TEA EFF. Um, I totally knew this. Or did I? I've been told this many a time in my life. My personality is larger than life. I am five foot nothing and I want nothing more than to entertain the world. The way I see it is if you're not smiling you better be making me smile. I mean shit. There is too much crap goin on that if I can't make the best of it. We are all fucking doomed.
So anyway. Between here, my Twitter account and real life interactions. I apparently entertain the shit out of people.
So as I was leaving, I am being reminded of hilarious moments of my short lived time at JobTwo.
Here's a highlight reel.
I went on a date with a co worker. (It's all girls at the host stand, we giggled, we imagined, we gossiped)
I refused multiple other dates with many other co workers.
I openly professed my love for a taken man.
I did the robot from the host stand to a table, with a line of gentlemen following in the act.
I spoke in an English accent to confuse people.
I spoke in an English accent to irritate the shit out of people.
I danced, on my female managers, and commonly in front of kitchen staff, with whom no words were spoken.
I told stories, loudly, often cussing in front of my superiors.
I let my co worker feel my boobs in the middle of the restaurant cuz he said he wanted to.
I did my job incredibly well and made other people feel bad about it.
I wore clothes into the building, knowing I would leave wearing them, and my favorite boys were the only ones who would see me leaving.
OH man, almost makes me long for the good ol days.
Wait?!?! What. No. I seriously just left. I have had ONE week of this whole, ONE job thing. I should probably savor it.
I give it about two effing weeks before I'm bouncing off the walls, for the love of Pete, someone punch me in my head if I try to get another job before January.
I'm counting on you folks!