Day eight.

When the temperature hits 26 degrees in Winnipeg in October it makes for a slow day/night at the (insert real name here). 


Today I worked a split shift. I walked into the restaurant 10 minutes before my lunch shift only to find that almost my entire section had been seated and the tables were already being served. It blows, big time, when you get into work and there are limited tables to be sat. This means less money to be made by me. 


I ended up serving two tables which left me with enough cash to go sit on a patio for my two hour break with some of the other servers working split shifts. 


We got to talking about a party happening tomorrow night and who is invited and who isn't. Servers, cooks, bartenders, essentially everyone in the restaurant industry is notorious for drinking, drugging and whatever unsavory acts you can think of. I fall into the drinking category. Because I didn't make some drinking money I'm sitting at home on a Friday night plucking my eyebrows and watching old reruns of Law and Order -- why that show was cancelled after two decades of crime fighting I'll never know. I guess I'll have to check out the new L.A. franchise. Back to my point... I worked 6 hours today and walked out with a whopping $35 minus the $15 I spent on a couple pints in the sun. 


While everyone else is out enjoying payday Friday, I'm at home drinking some old beer I found in the back my fridge, probably from last summer, called Gulden Draak. Tastes imported. 


Back to my original point: a party with coworkers. In the six or so months I've worked at (insert real name here) I've learned who I like to socialize with outside of work and who I don't. There are the duds. These are the people that are annoying, boring or just young pups that  I don't have anything in common with other than my place of employment. They rarely are able to hold their liquor and haven't read a book since the 10th grade. 


There are the party animals. These are the people who get blackout drunk and make asses of themselves. Sure they're good for a laugh but the sad thing is those of us not lifting up our shirts on the patio at wing night or trying to sleep with every dude we work with, are laughing at the party animals, not with them. More often than not a party animal will come into work after a night of ridiculous antics with their tail between their legs and avoid eye contact because he or she acted like a hot mess the night before.  


I like to spend my time with the chill crowd. These are the people that can hold a good conversation as well as their booze, like to have a chuckle and don't spend their time obsessing over the happenings of the restaurant. 


In my 26 years on this earth I've learned a thing or two. One being: never get drunk in front of people from work. Save your sloppy it for the nights with friends that have known you for years and will accept your shenanigans with open arms because you've done the same for them. 


We'll see what happens tomorrow.