Bringing home the bacos...

Michael is the one who brings home the bacon and I bring home the bacos. I don't work enough shifts to bring home bacon. Anyway, my new job is working out well so far. The people are nice and the tips are decent. But, as it is a restaurant job, time spent at work means thrusting myself into a vortex of drama because restaurant people hang out together and sleep together and create more drama. And of course they are totally incapable of checking said drama at the door and instead bring it to work for the rest of us. Maybe they think they're being kind by sharing. Or maybe they think that the rest of us must lead some pretty boring lives and they're doing us a favor by allowing us to live vicariously thru them. I don't know. All I do know is that I show up, do my work, make my money, eat a salad and go home. Oh, and take my bacos to the bank.

And with all new jobs, you have to spend some time learning who the various characters are...there's the know-it-all, the guy who sells vitamin supplements on the side and wants you to join his business venture, the guy who plays the restaurant version of House, MD, the crack head, the little skinny chicks who are chock full o' drama, the gay Republican (I know, right?) and a couple of college students like myself. So far they seem pretty normal and maybe that's just because they don't work there enough to take on some of the drama. There are probably some people I missed but you get the point. Drama aside, it's still better than staying on at my last job no matter how good the pay and flexibility were. Neener, neener.