fuck wednesday

I usually don’t work on Wednesdays because my boss is nice and realizes that COME ON I AM NOT A MACHINE. woops yes I am. A drink making, shit taking, below minimum wage earning MACHINE. But Wednesday is gay so I don’t have to come in by default because a machine is not required to serve the $12 worth of drinks we sell on a Wednesday.

Unless it was today when we have some bullshit formal Christmas party with some lawyers and their martini drinking alcoholic wives at 11am. Then you need a martini machine like me for wednesday because you know I am the only rockstar in that place who knows how to make a martini. Hello? GIN, GLASS, OLIVE, MARTINI! It’s like I’m a fucking computer or something like how can I possibly remember all these complicated algorythms?!

My boss spends hours masterminding diobolical plots to irritate me. For example today I had to do all the following things:

  • come in at 11am. sun? seriously?
  • dress formal. I hang out with crackheads and gangsters every night but by day I am supposed to be some classy person who actually OWNS formal clothes or whatever.
  • work with 2 of the craziest crackhead waitresses I have ever fucking met. I mean seriously have you ever worked with a rock? Its like that but with dumber rocks.
  • NOT SMOKE. Like pretty much the only reason I work at a bar is because I cannot hold down any job that hinders me from smoking a cigarette every 14 minutes.

I dressed in some velvet tights circa 1994. Like seriously they have been in a box in my closet since then. Also I did not wash my hair because you can make me dress up but you never said I had to be clean. Besdies that it was an old man party and those guys don’t care if I have not bathed since 1994 because I am probably the youngest chick that has talked to them since their teenaged daughters asked them for money last weekend.

One thing about old classy ass fucking rich guys: they do not become old classy as fuck rich guys by being great tippers. Rich people are rich because they don’t care about the important things in life like ipods or mascara that costs $50 an ounce.

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