Wednesday, August 15, 2007

"What- You Ain't Interested?"

That's how this guy in a "50 Cent Wifebeater" came at me today. I'm leaving work after a very long shift and he sees me lighting up (bad habit, I know), asks for one, says "Thank you ma'am...", then says, "Come on baby, please put my number in your phone." I had to laugh, because I was kinda in a daze so I wasn't even really paying attention to him (I don't see guys anymore, I've got mine- I just see bodies). His body was banging but his game was see-through. I'm like, Young Man I know what your approach is: Lemme flatter her then flatten her. Cute- but not really.



So today was my third day of training, and it is getting a bit easier although the menu is fucking crazy. There are endless ingredients in everything, some of them are Italian, so I have to learn how to pronounce them, as well as remember what item they come with. The wines?!? OMG! Forget about it. The list is like, four different languages.



I'm training with two dudes, both of them haven't gotten on my nerves as much as they did today. We're not allowed to smoke either, so you know I was ready to choke the both of them.



There's a young gay dude who was like super top notch server supervisor for these folks, and he says that although the money was retarded he had to leave because the management sucked. He talks about it all the damn time though, to everyone and anyone who's even halfway listening. He's nice and always willing to help, but he's always bringing that shit up. Since us new folk have to travel together throughout our shift, me and the other cat have to hear the same flippin' "horror stories" everytime someone asks "So where'd you guys work before?" He goes into a 10 minute monologue. The same 10 minute monologue every time. Geez.



The other guy is an older man from Greece. He talks really slow like he wants to give everyone enough time to pay attention to what he's saying 'cause it's sooo important (nothing to do with his accent, he's been in the States for 18 years), and asks questions about what the trainer may have repeated three times just before, even common sense shit.



The young one is skilled but if I'm asking the trainer something he cuts in with his own answer; he trys to stump the trainer it seems like- or he tries to prove that he knows so much more than anyone in there- and he's new. I feel like, "Damn dude, fall back. Humble yourself. We know you've been doing your thing for a while, but you don't have to scream it."



They both interrupt you and they talk over you if you try to take attention away from them, so I chill and wait until the trainer says something to me. No big thing though, I think I just have to get used to not relying on Newports when I get irritated.



Nadine G.

Daaa-daa-daaa! Wait Till I Get My Money Right...

Long time right? I know. Been a bit busy. So I left off looking for a writing gig. Well, I got one writing for Insite Magazine down here (an independent catering primarily to city dwellers from college age to young adults in their early 30s). I've been doing movie reviews during the summer and hopefully, if they'll have me, I can stay on until I graduate from State-ugh, whenever that happens. I can't afford school this semester so that's yet another semester off and that means I'll be doubling up for the Spring but whatever...[sigh] Ima dance across that stage when I'm done.

I reviewed this French film My Best Friend. Cute movie. And Sicko. Really informative. And Bratz. Nothing new there- a story about friendship enduring tribulation, same old- apparently everyone else felt the same. It bombed opening weekend.

I also got a new job! In Atlantic Station! At the Twelve! Slinging those plates as usual but a lot classier- slinging for a lot more money. Yes, your girl will get her bread up. It's a foodie's paradise, with a lot of ingredients in the kitchen, a lot of bottles behind the bar, and a hell of a lot of cheese flowing through the joint. Feel me?

Nadine G.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Stuff I'm Digging.

Maybe I should be doing something super constructive right now before I head to work, but I'm not- I'm on the web looking at some of the sites I love to look at.

I just discovered this dude the other day. Sometimes I miss New York because you hear about almost everything first. This cat puts me on. I downloaded that Kanye/Jeezy remix from here.

I'm also on my grown woman ish. I go here for my fix. Even if I can only afford to look-right now.

But don't get it twisted. I can still do it up dope boy fresh.

On another note, I just got the newest Billboard yesterday. I never looked at that side of the industry before. There's so much that goes into the making to the release of major label albums- it's mind boggling. So for a group of people to be tastemakers... to be able to read what's going to be the next hit... What the hell? I'd like to think that I can recognize a hit months beforehand but there's a whole strategy to the thing. Wow.

Nadine.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

On My Way.

Okay. So at the end of the Spring semester I said that I had a plan. I was gonna quit that stupid ass job at the airport and spend more time with the family and start writing locally again.

First, I quit the job, so I'm at a restaurant downtown slinging plates again. But it doesn't get to me like it did before the airport gig. The restaurant is like casual dining: our uniform is a black button down and blue jeans, but it's not like an Applebee's or anything. The menu prices reflect that.

I used to have the basic complaints that most (if not all) servers have: If you don't have money to tip with don't go out to eat. Go to McDonald's. It's the end of the night, and I don't want that last table. Etc.

It's like after working at Hartsfield, I was grateful to work anywhere where I didn't have to deal with attitude wielding managers with rolling eyes and necks. And the stress of cleaning a plane in under 12 minutes. Yeah, I said it. Cleaning planes. Scrubbing lavatories, tripping over bags of "airsickness" and scooping up the puddles. Oh and let me tell you 98% of flight attendants, male and female-are complete and total bitches. Don't fall for those flawless and easy smiles. The pilots? Please. They act as if you aren't even visible most of the time unless they need something from you. You could be trying to clean their first class and they'll stand around up there as if they aren't about to board the plane in two minutes. Then if you leave it less than perfect, they call the higher ups and say that you did a less than perfect job in first and you need to come back and finish. Then the plane is delayed and it's on you.

I went into a whole rant there but jeez, I needed you to feel me. Anyways, so I quit that shit. I'm serving again, and the restaurant owner is anal and can often be an ass about things, but he's nothing to me now. I can handle him. I'm also trying to write as I said before; I had two legit prospects at first, and one gave me the "g'head", the second I haven't heard from yet. But we're thinking positive things people.

Nadine G.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Grind it out.

So I've been so busy what with work and school and [sigh], just EVERYthing, that I've neglected my little blog. By the time I had a second to myself and a overwhelming urge to post something, I'd forgotten my login info- and just like that, the blog went on the back burner yet again. I wish my post today could be a little longer but alas, as usual I have homework to do.

Nadine.

Friday, February 2, 2007

Not Enough Hours...

I used to have a blog years ago, BEFORE the explosion of bloggers and everyone's obsession with posting every single detail of their lives. Geeks. Am I a geek now? [smile] Naw. My professor suggested that class members start keeping their own personal blogs. I'd been meaning to start one up again but I didn't really have the time what with FT job, two year old daughter, and pouting man at home.

I would just put "man"down but I have to put "POUTING man" because that's what he does now- that's his M.O. Most of the week he's home alone with the baby, Kamaia, and that can be crazy hard, so I feel his frustration. On top of that, we don't get to see each other like we used to, so we're both lonely even though we live together. It's actually kind of sad.

Anyways, back to blogging. It's a phenomenon. There's actually a guideline book out now called "No one Cares What You Had For Lunch," the title alone is brilliant. It's supposed to be, like, a how-to on keeping your blog interesting and creative. Funny.