The Down Side of Getting What You Want

At work, we pretty much have all 80 numbers of the girls we work with. That, or they're just a text or call away from a girl that does have her number. With management moving around and taking on different duties, such as scheduling, communication between each other has been crucial for our work performance.
"Yesterday i saw a STACK of write-ups in the office for girls that didn't have perfect uniforms." OK, so now we all know to bleach our shoes, shirts, and socks before coming into work. Girls frantically ask each other if they think barely-there stains will cost them their job. They'll walk over to you and scrunch your socks if you forget, let you know about any runs in your pantyhose, and tuck the tag back into your shirt. Basically, we are a kick ass team. While we did receive a memo about our physical appearance, everyone knows it's practically impossible to keep our uniforms perfect when working with the types of food we serve and still keep up the fun vibe our restaurant trade marks. But we're doing the best we can. I have recently purchased a Tide Pen

We have one of our new managers doing the scheduling our old manager once did, and he hasn't yet figured out how to email us the schedules. So we fend for ourselves, asking girls that work the day they come out to text our schedules to us. Luckily I never seem to have the problem, as I'm almost always scheduled the day they come out, or the email actually gets through to me. This week everybody was holding their breath to see if they were able to get the 4th off, including me. My boyfriend is actually participating in an off-road race on Tuesday so I was angling to get that off as well. Once again, as I picked up my schedule, I received all of the days I wanted off, but I had actually put in a vacation request for the 4th. In the dressing room, everyone else moaned about having to work that holiday and that they never, ever worked Sundays. Dashing around to see who got it off, they spotted me.
"Do you want my shift??" they cried.
"Um, no I requested it off." I replied. Why would I want to work Saturday or Sunday when I had purposely requested them off WITH a vacation request. Later that evening I received a text from a girl asking what her schedule was.
"Are you serious?? They scheduled me for the 4th!?" She replied.
"Yeah I guess almost everybody got fucked over."
"Yeah, everyone except you"
How she knew that I have no idea. But it's starting to feel like there's some animosity growing towards me. We'll see. Maybe they'll schedule me on Sunday next time and I can join the pity party.

What is Ford Thinking??

The other day my boyfriend and I had the displeasure of seeing the new Ford Mustang and we couldn't hold back the giggles. Why Ford?? You had such a good thing going! The new mustang looked pretty bad ass with it's fast back style and mean look. But you've taken that and smushed up the back to the point where I'd be fearful of being made fun of for driving the "stink bug car" if i ever purchased one. And I probably wont. Mustangs aren't my thing really. I hate to sound like a snob but I'd rather not drive around in the "poor man's" muscle car. If I was going to shell out some money for a car it would be something it would be either gas friendly or fun.

But really? When the new body style came out around my junior year of high school, about 5 or 6 years ago, I saw a completely new car. It brought back the mean, muscle look of the late 60's that I loved so much. But this new look just doesn't cut it for me. What do you think? Here's a yellow 2007 with the normal body style, and then we've got the red angled up rear. The advertisement photo obviously is marketing it to sell so they've got the best angle possible. It looks much worse in person.

**Not to piss off any of you ford people. I know there is a HUGE following. Half of you sit in my section at work a couple times a month!! xoxo

I Heart Craigslist

THIS APPEARED ON CRAIG'S LIST (USA) What am I doing wrong? Okay, I'm tired of beating around the bush. I'm a beautiful (spectacularly beautiful) 25 year old girl. I'm articulate and classy. I'm not from New York. I'm looking to get married to a guy who makes at least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don't think I'm overreaching at all. Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could you send me som e tips? I dated a business man who makes average around 200 - 250. But that's where I seem to hit a roadblock. 250,000 won't get me to central park west. I know a woman in my yoga class who was married to an investment banker and lives in Tribeca, and she's not as pretty as I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? How do I get to her level? Here are my questions specifically: -Where do you single rich men hang out? Give me specifics- bars, restaurants, gyms -What are you looking for in a mate? Be honest guys, you won't hurt my feelings -Is there an age range I should be targeting (I'm 25)?- Why are some of the women living lavish lifestyles on the upper east side so plain? I've seen really 'plain jane' boring types who have nothing to offer married to incredibly wealthy guys. I've seen drop dead gorgeous girls in singles bars in the east village. What's the story there? - Jobs I should look out for? Everyone knows - lawyer, investment banker, doctor. How much do those guys really make? And where do they hang out? Where do the hedge fund guys hang out? - How you decide marriage vs. just a girlfriend? I am looking for MARRIAGE ONLY Please hold your insults - I'm putting myself out there in an honest way. Most beautiful women are superficial; at least I'm being up front about it. I wouldn't be searching for these kind of guys if I wasn't able to match them - in looks, culture, sophistication, and keeping a nice home and hearth. THE ANSWER Dear Pers-431649184: I read your posting with great interest and have thought meaningfully about your dilemma. I offer the following analysis of your predicament. Firstly, I'm not wasting your time, I qualify as a guy who fits your bill; that is I make more than $500K per year. That said here's how I see it. Your offer, from the prospective of a guy like me, is plain and simple a crappy business deal. Here's why. Cutting through all the B.S., what you suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring my money. Fine, simple. But here's the rub, your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity...in fact, it is very likely that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won't be getting any more beautiful! So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset. Not only are you a depreciating asset, your depreciation accelerates! Let me explain, you're 25 now and will likely stay pretty hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you! So in Wall Street terms, we would call you a trading position, not a buy and hold...hence the rub...marriage. It doesn't make good business sense to "buy you" (which is what you're asking) so I'd rather lease. In case you think I'm being cruel, I would say the following. If my money were to go away, so would you, so when your beauty fades I need an out. It's as simple as that. So a deal that makes sense is dating, not marriage. Separately, I was taught early in my career about efficient markets. So, I wonder why a girl as "articulate, classy and spectacularly beautiful" as you has been unable to find your sugar daddy. I find it hard to believe that if you are as gorgeous as you say you are that the $500K hasn't found you, if not only for a tryout. By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then we wouldn't need to have this difficult conversation. With all that said, I must say you're going about it the right way. Classic "pump and dump." I hope this is helpful, and if you want to enter into some sort of lease, let me know.

The Wave House

Where have I been? No, seriously. I obviously need to get out more because I've apparently been missing out on quite a lot in my own city. I finished my breaker shift at work a little later than usual because I'm too nice and broke some girls that didn't really need to be. It was a slow shift, but I had the pleasure of waiting on a table where a young man sat (that required a double take to make sure he wasn't Jon Krasinski, or more commonly known as Jim Halpert, from The Office; a most beloved television show of mine), whose company I enjoyed immensely. After my shift I headed straight to the boyfriend's house, freshened up, and donned an outfit I hoped would keep me warm enough for hanging out by the beach but cool enough to dance my heart out at a concert.

We arrived early. It was not yet seven, but parking is terrible by the beach and I wanted to be positive I didn't have to walk back ten blocks in a drunken stupor. It was overcast. Typical June gloom. We walked up to receive our wristbands, stepped inside, and a smile immediately spread across my face. Heaven! I took a few more steps and felt my foot squish into some uneven terrain. My boyfriend tightened his grip on me and laughed. "Easy there, you haven't even had your first drink yet." Sand! They had sand inside! Well, the venue is basically on the beach so sand is probably a given, but they actually had dug out areas filled with sand and fire pits! Bars scattered the premises and surf boards were fabricated into awesome tables. I was in San Diego heaven. We walked up to the bar.
"Guinness please!" I happily exclaimed.
"Aw sorry doll, but we only serve Guinness on Fridays."
Ok, so maybe it's not exactly paradise. Not twenty minutes later, they turned the wave generator on. Yes. Wave Generator. Near the entrance, there is a large pool area complete with warming jacuzzis, showers, and a frickin wave. They actually had a few competitions going on as well. It was amazing to watch, and my boyfriend and I promised ourselves that we would be back for the next round. Not as observers, but as stoked out competitors!

I wasn't really an Unwritten Law fan before I arrived that night. But I sure as hell was one when I left. Maybe it was the five or six beers in me, I know I know lightweight, but those kids really know how to put on a show. I don't think I've ever had that much fun at a concert before, not counting that uncomfortable few minutes when my boyfriend went to the bathroom and some broseph felt that it was appropriate to take his place.

On our way home, I drunkenly demanded quesadillas, and to my surprise and delight, the boyfriend actually pulled into an unknown drive through! I was far too incoherent to pay attention to where we were, but dang, best quesadilla ever. Boyfriend agrees.

The 10 Weird and Bizarre Habits Hooters Girls form

1.  Lip gloss will become part of you.  You won't even realize you're putting it on until your boyfriend starts complaining.  Because nobody really wants to kiss a sticky, gooey mess.  

2.  You will instinctively put important loose cards, money, and paper into the sleeves of your tank tops.  It just becomes second nature.  

3.  "Cover-ups" will slowly begin to consume your wardrobe.  Because we can't leave the restaurant in our uniform and you have to look cute going into work.  Of course, some girls look just as cute coming in with their sweats and Dunder Mifflin Tee shirts, i hope.

4.  Shorts, dresses,  and skirts will never, ever feel too short.  Ever again.

5.  Wearing said shorts, dresses, and skirts will begin to feel "drafty" without that thick, protective panty-hose layer.  

6.  You'll achieve wing expertise.  

7.  Rude and lecherous guys won't be as irritating, because you've already seen much, much worse.  

8.  You will be compelled to exclaim, in your most HOOTERIFFIC voice, "HI WELCOME TO HOOTERS!" when you see someone entering the restaurant.  Even if you're off the clock.  And donning your cover up. (see #3)

9.  You will become very, very conscious of what you put into your body.  Because it WILL be visible your next shift.

10.  And finally, you will become the best, and I mean the BEST, tipper when dining out.  Because you understand.  You will also come to understand the difference between Hooters Tipping and the way to tip at every other restaurant.  

xoxo,

brit

for more info please click here.

Passenger "Too Sexy" for Southwest Airlines

>Does that headline ring a bell?

I remember when it was all over the news, and that was before my blogging days.  

Well, guess who my newest coworker is :p

And, she's pretty cool.  

Surprise Surprise

The boyfriend showed up at my house last night with two concert tickets in hand! Have I ever mentioned how much I love live music? I am now very excited for this Saturday night at the Wave House!!

In the meantime I will be earning back what is rightfully mine tonight at the restaurant. Wish me luck!

Quite the opposite of decent.

Yesterday was quite the opposite of decent. I woke up at the ass-crack of dawn to take my father to the air port, which ended up making me very late to the office. After eight frustrating hours, I clocked out and drove straight to Hooters to get ready there. Apparently I've gained a couple of pounds, which is the equivalent of 10-15 Hooters pounds. Throughout that evening I had to put up with a lingering table that thought it was hilarious to tell me I should work at "Booties." Haha guys...never heard that one before. I proceeded to mysteriously loose $100 from my money book and was walked out on by two guys I was horribly attentive and nice to. I didn't receive a break that night because it was assumed that I would be cut early, so Head Wait and my manager nearly flipped out when they realized I was about to cross into the 6 hour-you-must-have-a-break-to-work-any-longer time limit. On top of that I lost my voice and I still can't hear very well out of my left ear. "I'm almost afraid to get in my car and drive home." I said to my sympathetic manager. After cashing out, I walked away with negative 37 dollars.

But I received no write up and I still have my job. And I'm thankful for that.

I sent a text to my boyfriend about my not so very good night and drove home in silence, trying to clear my thoughts. "GOOSFABA" I thought to myself, quoting Jack Nicholson from Anger Management. At home I tried releasing some stress on the piano, but as it was well past midnight and my motor skills weren't functioning properly, I began to get ready for bed, impatiently looking to my phone every few minutes to see if my boyfriend had written me back. He did. Sort of. But he was preoccupied with some friends I guess. The final slap in the face. I turned on the soundtrack to twilight and begged my body to sleep, hoping that forgoing dinner would help slim me up for my next shift.

I can't wait until I am in a professional career. I am counting down the days.

How

What type of software do you use to create this type of art??

Have I mentioned that Beer commercials are my absolute favorite?

(I couldn't locate the English version. But the actual words aren't even necessary :p)