Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Gunshot cars outside my window

There's probably a car accident once a week at the intersection I live on. No big deal. Once a car caught on fire, and no one on the block was allowed out of their house while the fire department worked on it. But the fire cars aren't the worst part. Now it sounds like gun shots all the time. I'm trying to sleep you stupid cars!

There is a deep pothole on my street. It's small, a foot in diameter, and about 15 feet deep. The city finally tried to fix it, and put an orange plank bandaid over it. Now every time a car speeds down the block and bounces on the plank it sounds like gun shots. Or fireworks, when the plank is being pleasant. The pops echo throughout the block.  The sound is worse at night when I'm trying to sleep (like tonight), and I get jarred awake, and duck under my bedroom window to hide from the bullets.

I've found another reason to hate cabs. They're the worst culprits. Stop driving so fast! Watch out for the orange plank!

Saturday, April 23, 2011

I'm a swamp walker

Today I went to my new bartending job at fine dining restaurant with exquisite food. It's located on a marina, in which lawyers and retirees who had lucrative careers reside, and frequented by people who live in million dollar homes in local gated communities. Unfortunately, I have to walk two miles through a swamp to get there.

My uniform consists of a tie, button-down shirt and khaki pants. I bleached out the stained men's shirt from the last button-down job I had, which I coupled with a pair of irregular children's sized khaki pants that I bought on special during a back-to-school sale. I bought the tie from the dollar store last week, and it broke today, so I safety pinned it after I spent an hour trying to figure out how to tie it this morning. However, despite my meticulous primping, it was all undone after walking two miles through a swamp in a rainstorm.

By the time I got to work, slipping on several drowned worms on the puddle-filled path, my shoes were soaked with swamp water and boat gas. My hair was blown out in frizzy red mop, and the skin on my face was blotched and wind chapped.

The most embarrassing portion of my attire was the pants, which were soaked up to my waist and translucent. I had to put my leg up on the sink for support as I spent 30 minutes trying to dry them against the hand dryer on the wall in the bathroom. A coworker walked in and I joked, "I got caught in the rain, I'm not trying to hump the wall or anything!" Since this is a new job, this person is a stranger. "Ok," she said, and backed out of the ladies room.

Unfortunately, unlike me, only two customers came into the restaurant due to the weather. My shoes were wet with swamp water for the rest of the day so I might have a fungus infection, and I made $2 in tips.