Yes, I am a smart ass!
I decided to visit some past posts since I am so deep lately and find some funny stuff. I am going to keep some, add some and delete some of my incidents.
This “Nikki-tude” has been in full force now for about 24 hours. My best friend thinks it is funny and I am usually encouraged to write them down.
Here is one of the many good things about tending a bar. When you are pissy and in a bad mood you have plenty of people to take it out on. The funny thing is, they still pay you. One guy turned to his friend last night and said “She is verbally abusing me” and I said “this is true and you are paying for it.” I am merely being a smart ass but they love it. I do not push people and it is all in good faith. I love 90% of my customers, seriously.
No matter how good life may be or how happy my mood is there are just sometimes I can’t hide that smart ass “Nikki-tude.” Times like this should not be taken in an offensive matter. It is how I am.
The phone rang at work and the lady said “Hi, are you open?” I simply replied “nah, I am just here answering the phone today to say we are closed.” I did not recognize her voice but when she came in a short time later laughing at me. She came in just to mess with me because I was a smart ass on the phone. We had fun with it.
A little while later a woman started complaining about her wings. Normally I would be a little more sympathetic but she was with a douche bag that was on my last nerve. The whole thing went down like this:
The lady slurs “Uh…scuse ah me missy, these here wings are not good.”
I look down at the wings and say “are they cooked all the way through and crispy?” I completely ignore the “missy” because this would cause me to become untrained.
“Yes they are cooked just right but they aren’t good. They taste like sodium and salt.”
I look at the ceiling to calm myself. First of all I am pretty sure salt is mostly sodium. Sodium chloride (NaCl) to be exact but I refrain from saying this because it is obvious this would throw her directly into a state of confusion. I simply pick them up and say “I think you should take it up with Tyson…I didn’t kill the chicken, pluck it, or prepare it” and throw them away. I did not charge them for the food and decided they had enough to drink. When she asked why she was cut off I explained to her that Management had called and were monitoring the video cameras and told me I could no longer serve them. She said “oh okay, I understand.” WOW! I really was simply concerned with her not knowing the difference between sodium and salt.
Last weekend I went out with a friend. We went to a house party for a while and then stopped by a bar on the way home. I was standing there minding my own business watching people dance who took the phrase “dance like nobody is watching” seriously. I hear a woman clear her throat to the right of me and I glance in her direction and look back at the pelvic thrusting people on the dance floor. She then asks me if I am straight. I replied “no” and turned away for the second time. This woman then says “okay, well don’t step this way then.” I could not help but laugh out loud because I would not hit that with someone else’s car. I should have winked at her and reminded her she was in a gay bar but I don’t have patience for ignorant people.
The house I use to live in was being remodeled. If any person has been through this I have a chance for some sympathy here. I mean who knew you could fit so much stuff in one room until you try and put it in other rooms. What were we saving that plastic cup from a cruise that was taken in 1986 for anyway? Do we really need 42 coffee cups? Are we EVER going to have 40 people over for coffee? There is enough dishware to host the Last Supper here. It’s crazy but we are all guilty of it. Most people don’t realize it until they are moving. I have been moving around with my first beer can I purchased legally for years now. I do have a sentimental side.
Anyway, I am off subject bad. Here is an example of what is going on right this moment. The cabinet guys are here, the granite guy just left and the oven installer just had an issue. I hear “hey lady, come here” so downstairs I go to assess the problem. I am informed from the appliance installer that the new oven is 2 inches smaller than the old oven. I stare at him blankly but finally say “and you are telling me this why?”
“Well it is a problem.”
“Hmm” pause.
As I stare at a hole in the cabinet I simply turn to my left and look back at him and say “oven dude meet cabinet dude” and walk off.
Seriously was this a GED failure reunion in the kitchen? It’s not rocket science people.
Okay, well thanks for reading about my bitchy moments. I have to go. I just got a text from Tina (one of the people I live with) that another contractor is on his way to look at the back porch. I replied to her text “yay, more penises.”
I am telling this one he can’t have the job unless he has a smoking hot woman as an assistant wearing only a tool belt.”
Peace out Suckas…I miss you D and T!!
