Although most of you enjoy my wise-ass remarks on Saturday, I must confess that there isn't much to report because I didn't end up working last night. I had quite a long day before my shift, but I went to work despite my nauseous feelings I had.I arrived at work to have my boss ask me why my shirt was wrinkled, so I reply:
"I'm sorry, but I had to choose between ironing my shirt and throwing up," I said.
"Why didn't you call off?"
(Now, this is a dumb question because all of us good servers are scared to call off because we get the third degree every time.)
"It was past the 2-hour mark sir," I said.
"Yeah, well you look pale, go home," he said as he handed me my check-in sheet.
Saved by the puke! I got to go home and finished my porcelain meeting. It was very important. My sweet husband brought me some Sierra Mist and some rice and dry chicken so I could hopefully hold down the fort. And for those that care, I did hold it down finally around 8 o'clock.
No more yucky details. I'm off to work again tonight at 3:45, the magic hour at the restaurant.
More fine things to come...
- Farah
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