Taking Me

Practice for love scenes in the new books. Dirty, adult content. Skip if its not your thing. Back to normal commentary tomorrow. I hope.

Serioudly. this is not for a child's eyes.

Have a naughty night friends. I know I will.

AGxx

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Her eyes were perfect. The shimmered in the dark like two candles lighting me down a darkened hallway to the bed I found myself laying on. They were deep and full of promises. They were all promises I'd hope she kept.

Her lips were heaven. They were soft and warm and wet. I sighed as she stroked them over mind, quickly, teasing me, making me want more. The press of them grew harder, rougher, and I could feel her breath hot against my mouth, filling it with the heat of her desire. Her tongue was candy as it slipped inside me, stroking me everywhere and tempting me to more wicked things.

I slid her fingers inside my mouth, they were salt and warm and tasted like me and her together. Licking at them, sucking them, I felt more wanton than I ever had before. Our exchange perfect, mouths close fingers moving in and out of eachothers mouths. I couldn't stop it, I didn't want to.

She streaked the wetness from my mouth and hers down my cheeks and twined our hands together as she pulled me below her. She never let go, not for a moment, as she spilled her body over mine. She pressed hard into me, as I lay there, helpless beneath her, wanting her to take me, top me, in a way I had never felt before.

I knew, in that moment, my surrender was imminent.

She stripped me bare. There is no other way to put it. I lay bemeath her as she pulled me free of everything that kept me from her. I shivered; from the cold air against my body, from the look in her eyes and the power she had over me. I wanted to give it up.

Her hands were gentle, infinately gentle as she stroked my face, looking down at me like I was a work of art, a picture she wanted to preserve in her mind for all her life. She moved down, my neck and my collarbone receiving similar attentions, as though she were memorizing every part of me, as though she never wanted to forget. I hoped she wouldn't.

I hoped she wouldn't forget, but recall it again and again as she stroked my breasts and teased me to the point of begging and whimpering. "Please, please, please," it was all I could say, a single, echoing refrain in my head that spilled past my lips before I could stop it.

Her legs were strong, so strong as she held me down with them, lowering herself so she could lick and kiss the places she was touching. My mind loosed, and all I saw was a swirl of color and emotion behind my eyes as they fluttered open and shut. Her hair was soft as I tangled my hands in it, drawing her yet closer to me again.

But it was her skin, the warm sensual heat of her body that finally sent me to the edge. Her breasts against mine, her stomach hot and firm against me, it was all of my yearnings in a single movement, as she slid over and down me. There was nothing in that moment, nothing but the strength of her arms and the touch of her body all over me, as I began my refrain again.

Please. Please. Please.

If there was a moment to beg, this one seemed perfect. If there was a moment to lose it all, this was it. I couldn't wait, not a second longer, for her to take me.

My hands slid over her body, down her back- screatching as I went. I grabbed her and pulled her firmly against me. Her wet, perfect heat was almost more than I could bear. The feeling of her push and release was all I could have wanted, all I hoped for, and yet so far from the release I was wanting.

Her hands, finally, finally, moved into me, and I knew completion at last. She and I, joined together, that was perfection. That was true pleasure. Her golden, husky voice whispering in my ear of my beauty, her need for me, and how I felt- it was everything. I echoed her, I called back to her, as she moved. Her hips and hands and breasts never stopped, her mouth at once on my neck, my mouth, my shoulders and my ears.

Please. Please. Please.

There was a moment I felt it. There was a perfect, golden glowing ball of heat growing inside me and she was stroking it and playing with it like it was her own. She owned that spot, she owned me, and she wasn't going to let that ball break open until she was ready.

I begged for her, hour after hour. I cried for her, wept tears of pleading and passion. I could feel her love for me with every stoke, every kiss, every moment she delayed me. I was dying in her arms, but there was life; every part of me was awake and dancing and screaming for more of her.

Fill me, fill me again. Give me more and more. I begged her. There was her, and more of her, and at last everything. Her hands, her mouth, her body were inside me, completely.

I could feel the moment she released me. I could hear it in her voice. "You belong to me now." I couldn't dispute it as I rode wave after wave of pleasure and passion for her. I gave in to her, every second of it, and when at last, finally, there was no more of me to give her; she fell back and a wept.

As I cried for her, soft gentle tears, she stroked me, petted me and told me of my perfection. Her tongue was soft, gentle as she licked the dampness of my neck and stomach. She drank me in, tasted all of my pleasure. She dipped her head between my legs, and there I found how truly hers I was.

Gently, softly, slowly, patiently, she moved her mouth over me and brought me again. This time with love, this time with all the softness that her strength could afford her. As I shivered and shuddered under her velvet kiss, I felt myself move beyond my body and into the gleam of her perfect gaze.

Finished, wasted, completely her own, she let me hold onto her. She was my breath. She was my heartbeat. She was my pleasure.

Last night, she was my muse.

Feeling the Evening

On the menu tonight: Emo Crap. Skip it is you don't like it. But, as far as emo crap goes, its not too bad. For me.

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If you asked me what I saw tonight, I would tell I saw the clouds. Skitering tight against the sky and rolling over the moon so that it seems like Halloween in fast forward. Soft, grey and edged in ebony. If I took a fistful of obsidian and threw it hard across the grass, that would be the clouds this evening.

I'd tell you I saw the stars. Stars are so romantic. Right? That shimmering softness in the black of night is a guide. Somwhere up there is the people you love, the people you miss, and they watch over you and you can feel safe because they are there, shining on you. I don't see that in the stars. Tonight I see them laughing at me, the twinkle is the shine in the eyes that hide a smile beneath a serene gaze and fingers lightly tripping over the mouth. I can hear the soft sigh as those fingers move, the secret laughter of the earth in the wind this evening.

Its not the stars so much, its the spaces between them, another romantic notion that there's more out there, more to be had, more that can be sought. How sad- to think that the brightness of the stars, those loved ones looking down, is just the reflection of the greater blackness around them and me and you. How terrifying to think that between all those spaces are not only the hopes and wishes of everyone, the things we strive for and the all of the untamed and wild possibilites of life; but also the things we will never achieve. It seems to me tonight that the sky is the backdrop, the canvass of all my future failures and lost dreams.

Tonight I see nothing, nothing I want to see, nothing I can hope for. Tonight I see the blackness and bleakness of life. It doesn't depress me, it doesn't bother me. In a way, its comforting to think I am not alone in the constant toil and failure that is life. Keep moving, keep moving and I will share it all with you and we will be alone together in the dark looking at the laughing stars and thinking that there's more.

Ask me what I hear. Ask and I'd tell you I hear the sound of trains moving in the distance. Its lonely and comforting and beautiful all at once. Its work- work to be had, work completed and time that will never be gotten back, however long we moan.

I hear the sound of water moving, though I couldn't tell you where or why. I can hear the babble of water over cobble, dripping off my roof and sliding down over the windowpanes through the cracks in the ceiling and dripping into the floor. Its a soft sound, almost noiseless, the fall of water into carpet. I like it, the falling, the tripping, stumbling, freewheeling feeling before you're silently absorbed into nothingness. I can her the water playing and it makes me wish I was playful tonight, that I could rollick and laugh and be silly for no reason at all. I wish I was clever like that water; moving, changing, never seeming to mind where it goes, so long as it does, so long as it moves on. I love the water tonight.

I love its sound and I love its feel. I want to slide deep into it and lose myself in its heat. I want to pull myself in over head and fill my ears and my eyes and my mouth before breathing deeply, spitting it out and laughing at the feeling of it pouring down my shoulders. I want to feel it all over me, on my legs and my hips and running down my back, tickling and teasing me and reminding me to keep moving. I want to hear the splash and know that I can scatter it too. I can move and push and change the things that move and the things that won't stop. Somehow, there it is, I can feel it and touch it and change it and somehow its the same all over again.

I couldn't tell you if it was raining, I couldn't tell you if there were water running nearby. But tonight I hear it like the roar of the ocean in my head. The waves lapping at my feet and teasing and tempting me to move onward with it. It sounds so good.

Tonight I smell things too, of course. I can smell chocolate, faintly, ever so slightly and it makes my mouth water. I can taste it on my lips and I wonder where its come from too. Tonight I can taste nicotine on my breath and it makes me think of countless nights and countless kisses and tears and screams that I was never really able to let go of until I smoked. I think of the soft tap tap of the pack and I can taste the filter and the paper in my mouth, like I've never lit the ciigarette, but it doesn't matter, because it burns for me whther I light it or not. That makes no sense, does it? It makes no sense to have the fire there, when it was never lit, but so it is. It burns and smolders and fills me up.

I taste mint tonight, I feel it in my teeth and on my tongue and on the outsides of my lips every times I lick them, I can taste it as I breathe, deep inside, and it teases me with its scent even though there's no mint here, no oil, no candy or anything sweet. No, tonight it just me and the water and the stars, but the smell of mint lingers like I am laying in it and it has been all over and inside of me. Somehow I am made of mint tonight.

Thre's something else to scent. It isn't the thing I want but its there and it echoes and teases me and I can't stand it because its not...its not anything. Its like earth and rain and dampness and sweat and the smell of leather all together at once. It smells like the center of a seraglio with inscence burning and women dancing and there's life and light and painful lust and I can smell it. I can smell the scent, like fresh turned earth, like grass freshly mown and it drives me crazy. Its the smell of shampoo and rubber and plastic and salt. Its sweet, so sweet and its not sweet at all. It stings my mouth as I taste it and it burns as the scent moves up into my mind. I somehow think it is the mosnt inescapable scent of all. I can't stand it, but it is always there.

But to feel, isn't that where this must go? What do I feel? What can I feel? The immediate is superceded by all the things that overwhelm when I close my eyes and let go and try to simply feel. I feel wet and cold and hot all at once. I feel tiny blades of grass all over my legs and in between my toes. I feel the breeze moving its teasing laugh over my chest and into my hair and tossing it and tangling it until thtere is nothing for me to do but throw my head back and laugh at it . I feel the touch of love, the touch of pain, the touch of everything, like laying in a feild full of blooming flowers and there being nothing but nettle when I stand. It feels like pavement beneath my feet; sticky oils competeing with the softness of the grass, trying to heat me, warn me, drive me to somewhere new and different.


But to feel? What do I feel? What can I feel? I want to say nothing, nothing at all. I want to say there is an empty, echoing, hollow part of me that feels nothing but that's a lie. I feel everything, all at once, and that seems wrose sometimes. I feel like there is fullness to the point of pain, aching to the point of terror, and love to the point of weeping. There is so much, there is everything. There is me and you and everyone in the world and it feels tonight like all of them are crying and I can feel it all over me. Somehow though, I can feel it too, the hysterical laughter. I'm alright, I'm alright, its says. I'm not afraid, I'm not anything. But to feel it, to feel it all..

Tonight, to me, its perfection.

The Wind Screams With Me

So I was planning on a happy or funny post today before last night happened.

If you've read the news, or live anywhere near me, you know that my area of the country was struck with absolutely terrible weather last night. A city not too far rom mine was nearly leveled last night. It was terrible. In the midwest, in the springtime, its not unusual to get severe weather. It is, however, strange to get such severe weather that one storm can flatten an entire town. I mean, this wasn't a tiny town. It had like, 50,000 people in it. That's a big storm.

Of course, by the time the storm hit that city, there were warnings coming fast towards the city Ilived in. The counties all around us were getting tornado warnings. We were expecting ours at any time.

Now, I used to never have a problem with tornados. I really didn't. Mom's second husband, 2.0, was a weather spotter. I grew up listening to storm scanners and hearing stories about tornados. Punk was always afraid of them, but when the scary stuff started when I was a little girl, I was at the picture window in my front room looking out at the sky. When I was a teenager I went out with my friends and drove outside the city to watch the scary stuff from far away. It was stupid, but then, who isn't stupid when they're a teenager? I will say this, we did see a tornado a little too close for comfort about the time I turned 18 and it spooked me enough I didn't go looking for them again.

As an adult, I really don't like them. Its not the tornado itself. I'm relatively secure in my karma, and I figure if its my time to go, then it is, right? But what does frighten me is that I have people I love now, people I don't want to leave, people I wouldn't be able to bear the loss of. I have a home and secure employment and a vehicle that runs well. I have a start on a decent amount of savings. In one night, hell- in less than an hour, people who live just a city or two away from me lost all of those things. I grieve for them because they are facing what I fear the most.

Here's the rub: Kitten is terrified of storms. I mean blind panic terrified. I'm not sure how Oscelot feels about it, honestly. She looked scared and sick, but then, she's been sick for three days now. What I do know is that once we started getting reports ffrom the nearby cities about the damage and how bad the storm was, the girls didn't want to stay home. We don't have a basement, there aren't really any interior type rooms. Our house is a hundred years old, it isn't laid out with hallways. That's not how things worked back then.

So the quest for somewhere safe to go began, and the packing of necessities, and the great wrangling of the cats. Honestly, I wanted to be at home, but sometimes you make sacrifices for the people you love, so they feel better. This was one of those times. So Kitten, Oscelot, our five cats and myself piled into our Frontier, and off we went. Kitten originally wanted to go to her Dad's house. He was at church. Then she wanted to go to Precious, her best friend, because she had a storm cellar. She had told us we could come by. When we got there Kitten took one look at her house, surrounded by old trees and power lines and said hell no, and so off we went, back across town again, to Kitten's mom.

During this time, over the terrified wailing of the cats, Kitten and Oscelot were on their phones calling people and texting them. There was a monsoon going on outside and Kitten was texting, calling and driving. She hates that. Tells you how scared she was. I called Sakura to make sure he was safe, because he was on the road home from out state capital, and I called Black Magic, although I don't think she appreciated it, (that's a story for another day) and then I called my grandmother. Once I had ascertained they were all as safe as they were going to be I sat and watched out the window and texted The Lifeguard.

She had stopped back by the house after coming back from a roller derby bout in Oklahoma City. Thank god, she dodged their bad weather, our bad weather, and in the end only got stopped shortly outside of St. Louis, so I was greatful at least for that. Now, as much as I am not an advocate of texting and driving, last night I was greatful The Lifeguard did for me. I told her she could just let me vent, and ignore it, but I needed someone I could vent to and it couldn't be someone stuck in the storm with me.

I don't like admitting I am frightened. I sure as hell won't do it when my partners are frightened too. Its my job to take care of them and be strong for them, so when stuff like this happens I try to go to my happy place and be tough for them and fall apart later. It wasn't the storm that scared me, honestly, we were headed somewhere safe and that was fine. Part of it was the panic I saw in my girls' faces. Part of it was that I don't want to loose my house and my livelihood. Part of it was I don't want to loose my friends and family. I got to thinking about the few things I would regret if anything did happen, and that scared me too.

The Lifeguard saved me last night. I can usually hold it together. But there was soemthing about the non-stop lightining, being stuck in monsoon force rain in a truck with two frightened women and 5 howling cats that broke me. I was really, really greatful for her last night.

In the end I spent most of the evening in Kitten's mom's living room floor teasing my cat Evelyn, talking to Mom and Kitten and Oscelot and texting The Lifeguard. I even got a shot of a beautiful rainbow just as the storm ended. I saved iot as the background on my phone. (to my local readers, no it wasnt the double rainbow that everyone seemed to be posting about on fb either) I am okay, for the most part, as long as I can watch the weather coverage on the news (we go to round the clock coverage in circumstances like this) and have someone to chat to, it turns out.

I woke up this morning feeling very greatful. I am happy to have good friends, a good family, my home and my job. I thought about it, and you know, I think I'm a pretty happy woman. Today I want to make it a point to tell people thatI care about them that I do. I can't always count on dodging the bullett.

Iw ill say this, I am happy to think of moving to the west coast, where this hardly ever happens. Seriously. Until then, I'll just have to be thankful for the few coping mechanisms I have, and hope my luck doesn't run out.

Stay Safe, Y'all.
I Love You.
AGxx

I might note that the tornado was helead story on NPR this morning. If you want to read actual news about it, you can find it here. Also, relief effort will be ongoing. Get involved if you can.

Contemplating the Idea of Friendship

My plants finally came in the mail, and I got to plant two rose bushes and 40 hedges yesterday. Turns out we way under-ordered on the hedges. It only partially covered the side of the house, so we'll eventually have to oder more, assuming I don't kill the first round. I'm pretty excited. I broke in my callouses yesterday.

I also heard back that my friend at workt hat I helped with the paper not only got an A, but she graduated as well. It turned out that paper was all that stood between her and her bachelor's degree. I was pretty happy.

I've gotten more written on my novel this week. I was reading a post from Perpet the other day on her blog (not the one I linked to, but her writing blog) and I felt really inspired. As far as publishing goes, Perpet has been way more successful than I have. She's getting her work out there and I'm really proud of her. Sometimes though, I have to admit, I feel a little jealous. I also feel like I am a complete loser when it comes to my writing. But this post of hers, it really lifted my spirits and gave me a lot of perspective. I felt better about myself when I finished reading it.

the Lifeguard is back in town for a few days. Technically she went home for the summer last weekend, but because she plays roller derby for our local team she got to come back down for practice and a bout this week. She came over last night and I got to spend a little time with her. It was really nice. It also got me to thinking.

Of all the people in my life that I care for, most of them were not an active part of my life 4 years ago. Now, I was best friends with Perpet, she's been there since the beginning. Saukura has been there as well, although I regret not spending more time with him over the last 8 years or so. I feel like I missed a lot of opportunity to spend time with him, and one day soon one or the both of us will move far away from the miserable little midwestern town we live in.

Other than that, there aren't a lot of people in my life I've known for a long time. I mean, there's acquaintances and ex-es and all that, but not really people I love and trust. Now, on the one hand I would say that makes me pretty fickle, that I change friends so often. On the other hand, I'd say that my life has been through so many radical changes that it was necessary for me to change most of the people in my life. I think its making me stronger.

Earlier this week I was at work and when I got out to my section there was a guy at a new tableof mine, and honestly, he was someone I had hoped I would never see again. If you're familiar with my old blog, you would remember my ex Preacher Man, and some of the awful things he did to me. When I was still seeing him and those bad things happened to me, this particular guy that was in my section was a friend of ours. He knew what wsa happening to me, and I asked him for help. I was frightened. When he told me no, that he wouldn't rat out his buddies, I was devastated. I don't think I ever took the time to forgive him for letting me hurt like that.

I don't think he recognized me, he didn't seem to. He and his mom were completely polite, they were completely easy to care for, but the whole time I was waiting on them I was remembering all those things that happened to me, all those hurts, and I was torn between crying and bringing my tray down over his head. Instead, I texted Saukura and asked him to say a prayer for me and to send me love. I felt better, knowing there was someone out there that cared enough for me to take a moment out of their day and talk to god on my behalf. It got me through that terrible hour. It was great to have a friend who could be my strength for me when I needed it.

Fortunately, I seem to have a lot of those right now. I have beautiful, wonderful friends who love me enough to want to support me when I am feeling overwhelmed or trapped or frightened. I've never experienced that before. Even when I was with Beloved, I didn't really have friends. Now I can honestly say I do. Last week when The Lifeguard came to get me after dinner with the girls so I could have some time away, it meant more to me than I could have ever expressed to her. Not only was she taking time out of her very busy schedule to come see me, but she was giving me a shoulder to cry on and an ear that was willing to listen. She let me be myself, and she didn't judge when I told her that my partners (who are her friends too) were making me absolutely bananas. I felt more relaxed, more rested and more free after that couple of hours than I had in months. I realized I could take time for myself, have a life with my friends as well as with my partners.

Now I think about whether or not I am a good enough friend. I don't say this to solicit comments from my friends who read this blog, but as an honest moment of reflection. I want to think I would do whatever it took to make my friends happy, secure and well. I think I would do what they do for me, when they need it. I love my friends more than I could ever say, especially now that I am learnign to appreciate the very important role they have in my life.

I can only hope that they look at me the same way I do them. I sincerely hope they can't make it without me. I don't knwo what I would do if I didn't have them there.

I Love You Friends. (I love you too, readers)
AGxx

Reflections on Life in Restaurants: a bitch about the job post.

This last week at work has been interesting for me. Part of it is the come-down from what is undoubtably the busiest week of the year for us. Our two busiest days of the year fall within about 4 days of each other every year, and it has a tendency to wear you down. Also, as one of our senior servers, I get to work these days all day long, and that means I make a lot of money. Unfortunately, there's always about ten places to put each dollar, and while it should help, it feels like I am right back in the spot I was before.

The other downside to working those busy days is that the week following seems so slow it hurts. Yes, of course, it is not going to be so busy we have a line out the door, because that doesn't happen very often anyway. The other thing is everyone seems to have gottent heir fill of Mexican food the week prior, so business is even slower.

I've noticed that when its slow you tend to notice things you might not, or things that would normally not bother you begin to grate a lot more quickly than normal. It seems like on the slow days the bad customers are worse than normal, the kids are louder when they acream and the nice tables are fewer and farther in between.

Yesterday was a good example of that. I seemed to have about a 50/50 ratio of really nice people versus people who made me want to throw things at them. Never good. Since I've been making an effort to improve my karma, when I get to work I tell myself that I should only be sending goodness and love out into the world. God will reward me for that. That's what I tell myself. Take care of others, god will take care of you. The problem is I believe, always, that being kind does not necissarily mean being a doormat. I honestly struggled to maintain not just a detachedly polite facade, but one that was plesant and kind. When someone is being rude to you, its a real test.

There are some things as a waitress that just really get on my nerves. My biggest problem is that most customers are totally unaware of their surroundings. On a day when we aren't so busy there's a line out the door, most guests assume that if I am not standing over their table then I must be in the back on my cell phone or in the break room smoking. This is almost never true. If you pay attention to where your server is in a restaurant, you could see this. Most of the time I have two or three other tables at least. In a half hour period, this means I am not only taking care of you (keeping your drinks and chips full, making conversation, taking orders, making deserts and carrying out your food) I am also trying to time it right so that I can do that for a minimum of two or three other sets of people at the same time. That's no easy task.

Yesterday we had a waitress on the other side of the store taking care of a big group. When their food came up in the window I helped her carry it out. By the time I got back to my tables, one of them was angry because their sodas were half full. I didn't feel like I deserved that anger. One, they still had half a soda, two, I was there to check on them for that purpose, to make sure they didn't need anything. It was a struggle for me to not be rude when they got onto me.

Another problem with working in a restaurant like the one I work in is that you have a constant flow of refills. Not just sodas. In a normal restaurant if you don't order appetizers you waitress will probably only stop by once to make sure your sodas or tea is still full. In one like mine, where we serve chips and sala at the table for free (or say, an Italian restaurant that serves bread) people expect you to be there the minute they run out, or even come close. I don't mind keeping the chips and salsa full, that's my job. What I do mind is how much people eat, or demand, when they know its free.

For example, I had a table the other day that had three people at it. They wanted me to bring out enough chips and salsa for 12 people. I wouldn't do it. It goes to waste, and I get in trouble. Most of my customers eat far more than they should. Figure this: a jar of salsa at the store is about a pint. Two of our dishes equals a pint. My average table of 4 will go through a minimum of 6 dishes of salsa. How many of us sit at home and will eat three jars of salsa in the space of less than 15 minutes? Even if you have friends over? Even if you have dinner being made? I think its gross. I can't help it. The same thing goes for people who drink seven or eight sodas in one meal. That's like 4 two-liter bottles. Ew.

Now, there are things that are just plain rude, and I think that they ought to be pointed out; not because my lovely bloggers would ever do anything like this, but because I have to get it off my chest.

When your glass is empty, you don't shake it at the waitress. I told a man one time (not at this job) that to me, that meant he wanted me to take his glass away and not bring him a new one. If you want more chips or salsa and you pick up your dish and wave it at me, I'm going to take it from you. Don't tell me you wanted to keep that one until I brought the new one, if you throw it up in my face, I assume you don't want it anymore.

When I get to the table to greet you, at least wait until I say my name and ask how you are to start sking for things. There is nothing I dislike more than to be at a table, trying to be pleasant, and then to be interrupted mid-sentence with "Water with two lemons, and we need more chips. A lot more chips." Seriously? Its rude.

Here's the big one for me lately: if you have a coupon, say $5 off your meal, tip at least the amount of the discount if your service was acceptable. Waitresses hate coupons laying on the table, because normally it means we aren't going to be tipped.

Oh, and on tipping. I don't know who spread this rumor, but outside of maybe two states in the entire US waitresses don't make minimum wage. For example, I make $3.25 an hour. Not even half of minimum wage. I do actually need you to tip me. I woldn't be nearly as plesant when your screaming child throws Jello at me if I wasn't dependent on you for my wage. In my world, in most restaurants, if the service is adequate leave 15%. If the service was good, leave 20% If the service was stellar, leave more. When you do that and come back, your waitress will remember you and will take good care of you every time. She is also more likely to tell you about specials, or hook you up with discounts or free stuff. If you take care of your waitress, she will take care of you. Under only the most EXTREME cicumstances do you not leave a tip. If it is so bad you will never eat in that restaurant again, then consider it. Otherwise, leave at least the $3 or whatever to make the girl up to minimum wage. Its a bad tip, and she knows it, but you aren't putting her in a hardship. Tell her, in fact, to her face (POLITELY) if she asks if things could have been better, or how she was doing, how to make things better. Or talk to her manager, and tell them, (POLITELY) how this server could be guided to improve so you will enjoy your experience more.

Also, remember this, waitresses are people too. We have feelings. You can hurt them. If you're having a bad day and you take it out on us, we will be offended or hurt. Remember that a lot of us are going through college, or are trying to get into college, or get back in. We have families to support and lives outside of work. I might be stressed because of Kitten's finals. Maybe my cat died, or my mom doesn't have somewhere to live and she wants me to support her. Maybe my best friend just moved away and I don't have an emotional support system like I used to. Maybe your special order made my cooks mad and I got yelled at for it, even though it wasn't my fault.

There are a lot of things going on in my head during a workday, and most of them don't have to do with your Pepsi refill or whether your burrito took 5 minutes to make or 10. I can't tell you the amount of times, even in the last month, that I or one of my staff was reduced to tears because one of our customers was cruel to us. We have a fabulous girl at work who just became a mother for the second time. She actually had a table yell at her and upset her. What they didn't know was she was busy dealing with our terrible insurance to take care of her doctor bills, and that even though she made the effort to look beautiful like she always does, she came to work with less than 2 hours of sleep because the baby was up all night. Why did she deserve to be yelled at? She didn't. You know what the woman was mad about? She had arrived to her table after the rest of the party and she didn't have her own salsa dish. She had to wait maybe 5 minutes for one rather than share. See, to me, I don't see how that should bring on a screaming tirade in front of a dining room full of people, solely for the intent of humiliating that poor girl. Its not her fault.

I change clothes every day at work. (Why do I make this point you wonder? I'll tell you) I spend six days a week in my restaurant. I live in my work uniform. Thing is, I don't think most of my guests ever think of me outside of my blue or red polo and black pants. Yesterday I changed into a pair of high heels, capris and a brown and pink chiffon dress over it before I lef.t I took down my hair, and put on some lip gloss. When I was leaving to go get Kitten, two of our regular (but not MY regular) customers were coming in. You should have seen their faces. They actually stopped the hostess so they could make me turn around and let them look at me. They were astounded. You see, as nice as they are, I don't think it ever occured to them that I might not always wear my uniform. They never thought that maybe outside of work I could be a pretty girl, or wear dresses and high heels. They never think to see me that way. The funny thing is, not five minutes before that I was talking to one of my co-workers after I changed clothes. She asked why I always do. I told ehr its because when I am not on the clock, I feel more human in my dresses and heels. I feel like a real person who has more in their life than their apron and slip-proof sneakers. I think these people proved my point.

I love my job most days. I have overcome my natural shyness and I like working with people. I like most of my coworkers. I love my regular customers. In fact, a couple of them follow this blog. It means a lot to me. They take good care of me, they care about my life, they are involved in me more than just whether or not I can serve their tacos. That makes a difference to me. I'd say that these people get better service from me 90% of the time. They deserve it. The nice thing is, if I am getting my ass kicked, they see it, because they know me, and I don't get punished like other servers might, because they know if I had the choice, I'd be at their table asking about their kids and their businesses and their latest projects. These are the customers in my store that we fight over. I even have a few regulars whom I love, but who will sit with anyone, becaue they get great service no matter who they get. When they come in, the other servers will come to me, and some of the other crew members, and tell them they are in so that we can stop by and say hello. That's a good customer.

I digress. Most days i like my job. I like my boss. I like my coworkers. Most of the time, I like my customers. Its the few bad apples that can really spoil a day. I always tell my new kids two things: first is that you can't let one table spoil your whole day. If you do, then your next regular may be at the next table, and you might blow it because you're still upset about the last one. You won't make any money that way. You can't. You have to let it go, however hard it might be. The other thing I tell them is to not get mad or upset. Not on the clock. Unless things go really wrong, they're going to get some money from a table. It might not be what they deserve, or what they would like, but its something. Its more than they had before. I tell them to cry, or cuss, or scream; but to do it after work on the way to the bank. In the end, if you got the moeny, that's all that counts.

Teh sad thing is, that's advice that's really hard to take. Especially this last week. We'll see how I do this time.

Sprry to bitch about Casa Bueno, I don't do it often, but it seems to be weighing on me this week, and getting it off my chest here is better than getting it off my chest other places.

Love you all. I'll try to post something amusing tomorrow. If anyone has an idea, let me know. I'm all tapped out for dry humor, it seems.

Lots of love,
AGxx

The Craft, Zoos and Other Things Keeping Me Busy

My lovely Friends: Black Magic, The Lifeguard, Kitten, Oscelot, The Real Deal, and Auto.



Me and my ladies having fun outside the tiger enclosure.

I've been a bad blogger. Sorry Idisappeared. This last couple of weeks has been busy at work, and I've actually gotten to do some stuff with my friends inthe off time, which means very little work on my novel and even less time to blog.

So this last week I did two or three fun things. The first is I went and got a notebook to use as my book of shadows. Its great. I've actually been taking tiem to learn about my Craft, and I love it. Saukura has been coming over in the evenings when he is free, and the four of us have been sitting and talking about our goals, what we want from life and our practice. I've been learning and it feels really good. I liked having other practitioners to talk with, because up until now I've been what is generally called a solitary practitioner. The prospect of having someone to celbrate holidays with and work with is exciting. I feel like there are all sorts of possibilites opening up before me. I almost get now why Christians would want to go to church, although I have to admit church has never been anything particularly filling for me.

My other big outing this week was to our local zoo. It's not huge, because it is privately funded. Still, it's pretty big. We went with a gourp of friends on Tuesday, which is our day off. This week, we got together in the morning with Black Magic and Lifeguard (another friend of ours you'll probably hear a lot about) and had breakfast. It was nice, because Kitten makes the best breakfasts on the planet. eriously, she's theonly person I've ever met who won't scre wup my bacon, my eggs, or my hashbrowns. If it hadn't already been love, it would have been the first time she made me breakfast.

Afterwards we met two of Oscelot and I's co-workers at the zoo. They are without a doubt one of the cutest couples that I have ever met. Real Deal, the girl, is a server with us, and her and Oscelot get along really well. Auto, her boyfriend, has worked with me since I started at Casa Bueno, and is my very favorite cook. So the six of us went off to explore our lovely zoo and take lots of pictures.

We had a really nice time. I got a kick out of playing in the petting zoo, we fed the fish enough food to waste probably $8 in quarters, but it was fun. We kept trying to get the food to the turtles, who seemed either too slow or too stupid to get to the food before the fish did.

I got time to play on the playground with Lifeguard, which was great, because I like having someone else around willing to go down the slides, climb the monkey bars and all those other fun things. It makes me feel less like an old person and more like I've got plenty of life left in me.

We were a little disappointed. The giraffe feeding deck was closed by the time we got to it, and we were really wanting to do that. The otters, who are normally out and showing off, were not in their yard. That kinda sucked too. I love the otters. Otherwise, we had a great time. The bears were playing together under the trees, and it was completely adorable. I played hide and seek with the warthog, which ws hilarious, because every time I disappeared around the corner he would start grunting really, really loudly.

The Lions acutally decided to get up (they are almost always sleeping) and we got a bit of a show from them. The male started calling to the female and his voice was beautiful. She came out of their little cave and gave him kisses, and then went back inside. He thought this was great, and I got an awesome picture of him on his back, looking more like one of my cats (albeit huge) and a lot less like an animal that could tear your throat out.

The sun was out and we got plenty of it. It was almost ninety degrees at the hottest point in the day. That's not normal for May in this area of the country, but we weren't complaining. I wore sunscreen, of course, and actually got enough sun that once of my coworkers commented on it the day after. I was sorry that the many interactive water features at the zoo werent running yet, but again, its just now the middle of May. We were having July weather. (until yesterday, when we had a frost. A frost!)

I will admit, the walking was a little rough on my ankle, which is still pretty sore. It isn't swollen twice its size anymore, but I'm still bracing it for work, and when I get home I have to elevate and ice it.

In other news, I had an eye appointment last week which precipitated a meltdown on my part. Turns out the insurance from Casa Bueno has gotten messed up, with respects to me, so I had taken out my last pair of contacts and was waiting to get my eyes checked when the blurry figure of the nurse came to tell me my insurance had been canceled. I wasn't pleased. At all. I'm still working out how to fix that, and in the meantime I rescheduled my appointment and the eye doctor graciously lent me a pair of contacts in my old prescription so I wouldn't have to be blind. Which is good, because I am legally blind without my contacts and glasses. I ended up upset enough the girls took me to dinner. They very graciously allowed me to call Lifeguard, and she and I went for a drive hat evening. It was really nice. We had gelato and made a mess of ourselves. That was fun. I was glad to do it, because she had to go back to her hometown for the summer on Friday.

Tonight is one of our coven nights, although we usually just play games on Sunday and bond. I'm looknig forward to it.

Also, I have to mention, God and Godess bless the people who came in to my section earlier this week. I was talking to them about pets and they found out about all the stray cats we feed. One of them has family that runs a pet shelter, and they have acess to more pet food than they will ever need. They offered to let me take flats (whole truckoads!) of food from them at no charge to feed my starving outdoor kids. They only live a couple neighborhoods away form me. I was crying at the table. It is such a relief. We spend almost as much a month on cat food as we do on human food. I was so greatful.

That's me in a nutshell for the past two weeks.

I'm pretty boring, huh?

AGxx

Update

I and my blog are not dead. This is the busiet week of the year at Casa Bueno. I am beginning to loathe Cinco De Mayo.

I also helped a friend write a research paper this last two weeks on international accounting standards.

I fell off my front porch this morning and I'm pretty sure I hurt my ankle pretty bad, no breaks, but I think, judging by the swelling and bruising, I've strained somethign at the very least.

So: grumpy, tired, geeked-out, and in pain. That sums it up.

I swear, I'll write something of value in the next few days.

Also, Happy mother's day to all the moms out there.

Keep safe and well,
agxx