Serving It Up For No Discernible Reason

In true self-destructive style, I have utterly given up the hunt for career opportunities. After spending all of our cash reserves in the last two years, sending out more resumes than I can count and attempting short-lived stints at a chain restaurant, upscale retailer, and temp agency I have settled upon a career as a barmaid. Yes, while my English Lit degree gathers dust and my grammatical skills fade away, I am polishing my ability to look cute in a tank top, write down orders for beer and wings, and flirt for 12% tips. It's a proud, proud day.

I'm not freaking out, well not too much, but I am really poor. Turns out the bar I chose to work in, is never busy when I'm actually working. The people are great, but nice people don't pay the bills and as it turns out, neither do losers who give me their phone numbers while I'm carting away plates full of wing carcasses. Fun!

In keeping with my new lifestyle choices of pretty much doing the opposite of anything that seems to be a good idea, working at a dive bar with no guarantee of a paycheck should be the right choice. Sadly, I am still waiting for the pay off. I did get one free Jack out of it and a free order of really good french fries, but other that I'm still waiting for the benefits to kick in. There was the night I made a sarcastic joke to another girl that works there who was super drunk and got her feelings hurt then told another girl that works there and she confronted me about it and we had a little girl on girl melodrama showdown. Why are women so sensitive and annoying? Do I really need to have confrontations with twenty-somethings at a bar because they can't understand sarcasm?

I suppose while I'm on the topic of super stupid things to come out of my new career at the bar I should mention the night the young goth-esque girl that works there was relaying a story that apparently required her to repeat the "n" word out loud in front of tables four times. When I asked her to stop saying that word she then also felt it appropriate to lecture me about my behavior. Still not sure how that one happened in her delightfully empty head, but at least I put something else in that vacant space besides the "n" word.

Oddly enough, I'm finding that I like working at the bar. It is difficult on me physically as I am not used to being on my feet so long or working such late hours, but the social aspect can be fun and I really do like the owner and other staff . . . well, most of them anyway. It's nice not to be chained to a desk and I really like that my hours are varied rather than the straight 9-5 of my old life. Of course, I'm still not making any money, but I do have the reassurance of knowing that many unattractive men think I'm hot enough to foist their unwelcome numbers upon me. So that's a real plus.

Join me next time when I give up my bar job and take up panhandling. I can't make much less money than I am now, but at least I won't have to keep throwing away losers' phone numbers.