I started work Friday morning at 7 a.m. That means I had to wake up no later than 6:30 a.m. in order to be out the door at quarter to. I am NOT a morning person and I had a long day ahead of me. Could have been the worst day of my life. But, no sir. I worked until 3 p.m. I served two blokes from Australia in the morning who were trying to mess with me, but I brought my "A" game. He asked for two cackleberries "Du soleil" and I just nodded my head as if people asked me for sunny side up eggs that way all the time. He also asked me if our ham was kosher. Clearly, the waitresses in Australia are retarded if they can be duped into asking the kitchen if the pork is kosher. I liked this guy, though. We had some lulz.
Later on, I served a woman who wanted to have the Pork and Apple Cider Stew as long as it didn't taste like apple cider. Hmmmm. Isn't that like wanting to eat pussy, but not wanting it to smell like fish? Just sayin'.
Like I said, I was done at The Waring House at 3 p.m. and I had to work at The Island at 4 p.m. Just enough time to go home for a shit and a shower. So far, I had been on my feet for 8 hours. Fortunately for my feet, there was no one at the restaurant until quarter after five so I walked around in my socks for a while. This is unfortunate for my car payments. If things don't pick up, I am sent home early without any money in my pocket. That just wouldn't do because I had made plans to go dancing after work. That's right. No rest for the wicked ;)
Pretty uneventful night at The Island. One lady was in a big hurry for her spot o' tea and actually banged her fist on the table to bring this fact to our attention. Really? It's not medieval times and you're not a five-year-old, bitch. Get ahold of yourself.
I got the hell out of there around quarter after eight. Went home and got dressed to go out on the town. I made plans to see Chatterbox at the bar. Turn R Up is a fairly new dance bar in Picton with a pool table, a big dancefloor and a stage. The building used to be a bowling alley. The clientele is relatively diverse, but getting dressed for the place is still a challenge. First, I thought I'd wear my jeans and a nice, dress shirt with my high heeled boots. Nope. As I looked in the mirror, I realized I would look too mature and a bit ostentatious. I changed into a hoodie with a pair of black Pumas. Nope. I would get too hot on the dancefloor and I may even be underdressed (in hindsight, I couldn't have been underdressed for Turn R Up). So, I went halfway and wore a white polo with a black jacket, my jeans and my Uggs... comfy, yet fitted.
Stopped to pick up Amanda, who looked like a million bucks. About two years ago, Amanda was stick thin with a little booty you could probably hold in one hand. Then, she started drinking red wine. Now, she's still "thin", but she has this beautfiul, round Beyonce-like ass which is only more pronounced when she puts her long legs into a pair of knee-high, leather boots.
Bitch.
We arrived at "the club" just in time. There were plenty of people there, but they were all just playing pool or drinking at their tables while the band played. That is just a damn shame. Chatterbox plays a good mix of 70s, 80s and 90s music. I went to school with three out of four of the band members - Tony (singer, guitar... and Dave Coulier impersonator) was my baby daddy's best friend in high school; Mouse (bass, singer) is my friend, Becky's husband and my friend, Cathy's brother; I used to go to parties with Terence (drummer) and I think he hooked up with a friend of mine once. Highschool is a bit of a blur now. It was 20 years ago, after all. Derrick plays guitar and has a porn star moustache that I love. You can check them out at http://www.freewebs.com/chatterboxband
So, there I was, all dressed up and not able to really shake a tail feather. I watched Amanda and Christine instead. Skinny people are fascinating to watch. They go so fast - all legs and arms and knees. Amanda reminds me of a cobra in a snake charmer's basket. I got back on the dancefloor for the next couple of songs. One of my favourites is Sexy Thing, by Hot Chocolate, which is slow enough to prevent bouncing and funky enough to really groove with. About halfway through the song, Amanda yells into my ear, "Ohmigod! I just got the worst whiff of rotten crotch smell!" And, I had to admit, something was off in the Turn R Up crowd. So, I bent down and started sniffing out the culprit like a two-legged Bloodhound with hip dysplasia (I couldn't stop dancing. That would blow my cover!) We decided it was a girl from out of town with blond hair because every time she whirled by, all you could smell was fish sauce and rubber tires.
I said to Becky, "I think someone has a bad case of Vaginosis."
She grabs me by the shoulder and says, "Ohmigod! That sounds serious. Is it life threatening?"
Before she could call 9-1-1, I explained that it was just a fungal infection. She's such a joker, that Reba.
Not long before I had to go, they played a new song that I hadn't heard them play before and it is my new favourite. Run, Run Away, by Slade requires lots of jumping and moving. So, I just grabbed hold of the girls with my two hands and bounced like a 6-year-old on a sugar high who hasn't taken a Ritalin. Awwwwww, good times!
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