fuck this. i'm working my 15th sunday in a row or some bullshit like that. it's the only complaint i have about my job. come summertime, sunday is THE day that everyone in the local world gets to stay drunk and stoned all day on the beautiful outer beach (including my bosses and most of my co-workers). then they all stroll into my bar, shitty and happy, and having a fantastic time, and i'm supposed to smile and serve them as if i don't want to punch each and every one of them in the throat and then jam their coronas up their asses.
because the bosses stroll in drunk, around 7 or 8pm, they like to have me there as a sober, responsible figure. you know, to make sure the place doesn't burn down, so the cooks don't get wasted in the kitchen, so the b-team servers i'm forced to babysit on such nights don't completely fuck things up and send people out the door muttering "never again"...
every sunday in the summer, a group of my friends, as well as the boyfriend's huge, fun family get together from all across new england, and drive out on the outer beach, as far as you can go, and have a huge, a.m.-til-sundown bbq. they sun, surf, play paddleball, eat, baci ball, drink, swim, frisbee...it's an absolute blast. last summer i could never go. and this year i don't have my own beach truck, just my little mazda zoom zoom, which certainly isn't four-wheel drive. i want to have fun on sundays! i've worked nearly every sunday since i started in the restaurant industry 13 years ago. it's absolute donkey balls that a girl can't get a holy day off without requesting it weeks in advance, with a truly severe excuse as to why it's imperative to schedule me off. and i usually have to offer myself in some other way to make the offer sweeter. if only i did the schedule...it's the only thing i don't do at work, and it's really starting to piss me off.
waaaaaaahhhhhhh.