I survived kid's night.

Last night, for the first time in a year, I worked the horror that is "kids eat free night". After a string of horrible nights last year, I just told them I couldn't work Wednesdays. I'm sure you all can picture it -- the macaroni ground in to the carpet, the crappy times, the millions of Sprite refills. But after such a crappy weekend, I was so desperate for money that I picked up a shift. At first it was just a first cut, but then a closer got sick and I picked that up.

And it really wasn't so bad. I didn't have a section that allowed large tables, so I didn't get screwed that way. The only thing that sucked was that when I got there at 4, a table of three women were already camped out in my section. They were already done eating when I got there, and the bitches didn't leave until seven! They'd told the host they were just going to sit "until you get busy"--I guess the second time we went on a wait they realized maybe they should get their dumb asses out of there. I found out later that they'd come in before three. Now, my friends and I can talk all day too, but four hours in a restaurant? That seems extreme to me.

I wasn't too bothered though, because I was kept busy anyway. At about 4:30, fifteen people from a bank rolled in and decided to sit on the patio--which was closed, not set up, and covered in dried leaves, but whatever, people! As a joke, the managers like to "assign" the closed patio to somebody, and yesterday it was me, so I spent the first few hours of my shift essentially cocktailing to the group on the patio. So I wasn't too angry, although I did ask the GM if we could start changing those women rent.

I really lucked out with my tables with kids; they all tipped the would-be percentage instead of the actual, lower price. All in all, it wasn't a bad night; I'll be more likely to pick up Wednesday shifts now, at least until the next clusterfucking disaster!