Politics and Calamari

Omg. What an eventful 8 hours at work! Non-stop entertainment. And not necessarily in a good way. Let me elaborate.

Well, first, I had to be there at 6:45am. Niiiiice. I actually got up in time to do my hair and everything. Whoa. I must've really needed that sleep I've been getting these past few days. It's paying off and I'm feeling better (fyi).

Well. Not 100%, I still feel weird in the stomach and if I push myself hard (like walking around fast and holding things -- i.e. plates, etc -- with my tummy) I start to feel not so great. Well. I voiced my feelings, like I have been the past few days and Michel (the guy who called me Maria for the LONGEST time) said I could go home early if I felt bad. I shooed that thought out of his mind, cuz hey, I'm here to make money. Thanks.

Well. Around 11am, Michel says to me, AND I QUOTE, "I know you're not feeling well, but you need to push yourself a little harder." I give him a, "WTF does that mean look?" And he repeats, "You need to walk a little faster and work a little faster -- pick up the pace."

.....

EXCUSE ME?!?

I've never, in my 26 years, been told I'm slow. NEVER. Well, except when I was in gym class working on getting that damn presidential award. Which I never got, thanks.

I was LIVID. How dare he tell me that I'm moving too slow! All my tables were happy, all my dishes were cleared, food was being ran and drinks were being served. As far as I'm concerned, everything. was. just. fine.

So. After fuming for a hot minute, I stopped two other girls I was working with and asked them point-blank: "Am I slowing you down? Am I moving too slowly for you girls?"

They both gave me a weird look and said, absolutely not. They told me to ignore Michel, but he's kind of the man. He makes the schedule, runs the show when Rodney (the bossman) isn't there. So. I basically have to bend over backwards in order to make me look "decent enough."

So. The running joke for the rest of the day was, "Sorry guys, I'm just moving too slowly for you..."

Whatever. Deck.

Moving on. I had a number of people ask me if I was Canadian today and then we joked about how finicky they (the Canadians) are about being called American. It was fun to joke about their silly ways. One table even told me that I didn't act American (in a good way) and thought I really fit in well here. Whoa. They said I should get citizenship. I said, "Well there's only two ways I can do that, either get sponsored or have a skill."

The guy looks at me and says, "Or marry an Aussie...I'm single!" But I'm pretty sure he was single for other reasons -- Metro anyone? His sister also said she'd marry me...for the duel citizenship, of course.

Then, as the day ended, we all ordered our lunches and sat around chatting. This is a regular occurrence for us and something I love about the job. Only thing is -- it ended up with a discussion of politics.

K. So something you might not know about me. I don't do politics. Regardless if I'm in America or in Australia or in Antarctica. People are stupid and it's something you just can't discuss unless you agree on the same thing. It's just that simple; that cut and dry.

Well. Sing, our Barista of the day, started making fun of the way I say litter and pollution -- we were talking about NYC compared to Sydney. Then he told me how much he loved George W.'s accent. I, of course, rolled my eyes and said, "Really?!" Then, he informed me that he thinks he's a very wise man.

*SCREECHING TIRES*

Um. What?

Of course, I couldn't stop myself from proclaiming that he had it all wrong, no no no, he's not that smart -- everyone, including people who voted for him and stood by him, thinks (no...wait a minute...knows) he's an idiot.

But. NOOOOOO. Sing couldn't stop there. GOD NO. He had to tell me "...That W's a wise man for standing up to the terriorists and going after them! How he defended America in the proper and right way! He helped make those terriorists and other countries scared of America -- they don't know what America (i.e. George Bush) will do next! He did an amazing job using scare tactics to freak people out and that's why America's #1. The world got into a financial crisis not because of George Bush, because he's a smart guy, but because it was inevitable and George Bush has helped out tremendously by trying to fix the crisis everywhere" And of course, in the middle of his rant, as I tried to rebuttle, he said....Ah-hem....

"NO, HONEY. LISTEN HERE"

K. That's when my ears turned off, my head looked out to the ocean and I pretended like I was somewhere else. ANYWHERE ELSE. I don't do politics and, ya know what, I don't do conversation with you, Mr. Sing.

I used to feel bad that Michel would yell at him all the time, but now...I'm going to revel in it. He's the idiot.

But he does a good job at wasting time drawing in people's flat whites (1 shot of espresso with milk and a touch of froth) and such.

So I was proposed to today as well as told I'm too slow then had to deal with a political conversation with George W. himself.

Wow. What an eventful day!

Thanks for listening. Cheers (which I still can't say without feeling like a moron) and Ta! (which basically means Thanks, but I dunno how they got 'Ta' from that....and no. I still can't say that one either). I'm working on it, I'm working on it....

Stupid Boy.

Or otherwise known as Deck. Emphasis on the 'E'.

Remember my post -- waaaaaaaaaay back when? The one where I worked at some festival or something and almost died? Right. Glad we're on the same page.

Well. There was a brief paragraph (Number 13) about a boy -- emphasis on the BOY -- that I met and said I was 'hot' blah blah blah wanted to visit me in Coogee blah blah blah. Well. He's been calling NON-STOP. Non-stop, people. And, frighteningly, this wasn't in a creepy, omg-he's-going-to-kill-me kind of way (Ah-hem. Refer to Edward).

No sir. This one had me. Hook line and sinker.

Until tonight.

Well, a few nights ago he kinda, sorta, slightly, just a tad admitted he was living with his now-ex-girlfriend. I'd say strike one, but I think this guy was slowly adding up the strikes, which I have already lost count.

Then today, after a break of hearing from him (I wasn't worried/upset, in fact I had been ignoring him), I get a couple random phone calls. Oh yes, people.

Insert dramatic music here

And of course, no voicemail.

Eh. Whatevs. Think nothing of it as I don't answer random phone numbers as it is. If ya want to talk to me, leave a message or text me. KThxBye. Easy enough.

Then. Mr. "I'm-too-cool-to-be-honest" calls me up about an hour after the last random call. We do the whole 'let's have small talk' bit then he gives me the "I need to talk to you for a minute."

Insert sorrowful music here

"Okay look. I have a girlfriend. I'm sorry. I wasn't honest with you before, but we just broke up because she found out I was ringing you."

"Oh. I figured. And was that the random number that was calling me?"

"Oh. She's called? You're not going to say anything incriminating are you?"

"I'm too old to do this, so good luck to you with your girlfriend."

"So, you'll help me out and tell her nothing's going on?"

"You don't get to tell me what to do, I'll do what I want. Good luck!" Deck.

And with that. I hung up. He even had the audacity to ask if he could still ring me. Ha! Stupid Boy. Next time, please just text message break up -- it'll be easier on your ego, lil' man.

I'm giving up on the Aussie boys. They're too aggressive and dumb to get past this steel tramp. BAM!

In other news, I'm still slightly sick. I dunno what got me, but it's not my friend and I don't like it. Hmm...maybe it was the Kangaroooooooo???? (At this point, I'm blaming everything -- work, my bed, the sky, OZ...you know, the usu).