Money in the Bank?

D-E-A-D! That's what work was looking like today. Had me feeling like, why did I even come in? But it's all good. I made my little bit of cheese here and there. I had a funny type guy at one of my tables tonight. I guess he was an ex NBA player or some ish. Anyways, he's out with a young lady who looked like she was scared to death of speaking above a whisper in front of him. He was pretty forceful. He sat down and was immediately adamant about a server- ANY server, changing the channel on the TV facing his side of the restaurant, to a Hawks game. When he saw that we have Direct TV and not basic cable (where you could see the game local) he was just exasperated.

"Just turn to a game. ANY game."

Fine. So we did. For the rest of the evening he was just real funny style. I can't describe it to regular folk unless you've ever worked in the food service industry. Everytime I came to the table, he was talking- either to 'ol girl or to somebody on his cell about his big plans in the works or whatever weird shit he was talking about. I didn't really hear the young woman speak until they were about to leave. It was like he wanted everyone to know that he was a "somebody." Before his meal, he was waiting on 'ol girl at the bar, and he demanded that the bartender change the channel on the TV facing him. Oh brother.

As soon as they sat down and I did my little spiel, he's like, "Where are you from?" I wanted to roll my eyes, because I can anticipate the question and I never see the point in discussing such minor details with guests unless I feel comfortable with them.

I tell him NY.

"Yeah, you know, I used to live up there." Like he wanted me to recognize his glory days on the court or where ever he was doing whatever he was doing up there.

"I can tell, It's just that you said 'y'all'." I told him that when I was home, I said 'y'all' I just don't have that drawl with it. I never did. He's not even really listening to me though, I could tell by his comment after:

"Yeah, you can't avoid that Southern [slang]. It just sticks to you once you're down here." I wanted to suck my teeth and tell him that I rep Brooklyn to death but my man and my daughter are from the A, so Southern doesn't bother me. Ass. Anyways, I sound like I'm giving your boy a hard time, so let me sum it up with this: This grown man, 'bout 6'4", 240, orders the roasted boneless chicken breast and says, "Ima need them to cut my chicken up. I don't want that big piece just sitting there." Right.

Uh, Never Mind...

So I was on some Hennessey and Diet Coke the other night, when I decided to get on Myspace, you know, just to get on there. I'm "friends" with a particular magazine that I'd always wanted to write for-professionally. I actually got as far as being considered within an inner circle of folk for their summer internship program. But alas, I didn't make it to the final whatever, so I sorta got knocked off my ish for a while. I was so upset-second guessing myself and everything, anyways...

I was on Myspace, and I was just a little bit toasted, when they sent me a bulletin, saying something about sending your pics to the NY office, if you think you look like a celebrity. I'm not usually one for trying to get fifteen minutes in the spotlight. I'm not that girl. I'm satisfied with playing the low key role, but it was the Hen! I sent the guy a message saying, "I've been hearing that I look like Rudy Huxtable since I was 4." He hit me back twice since like, "Send it in. Here's the address." Now I'm like, Umm forget it. I mean, I guess it could be okay but, I'm grown, sending pictures in to magazines. I guess it's not that serious but what if I did end up writing for them one day. "Hey you're that Rudy girl!" Ugh!

Hmm...

What's the matter with this dude? I hate to admit this but he's hilarious. His ideas would be scary if they weren't so far-fetched. But he's so "off-his-rocker" that he's someone to laugh at. Mira!

I Just Need My Ends Clipped.

"We don't do ethnic hair here."

You're a hair stylist though? Really?

Random Nonsense.

So I'm at work today, already aggy, as there were a million things that I could think of doing besides being there dealing with the one table I had all evening. Anyways, so I'm there and the room service phone rings. Let me get into the foolishness that follows:

"Good evening, In Room Dining."

"Yeah, umm, I'm trying to order some food."

[I'm thinking, 'Obviously.']

"For what room?"

"Uhh, I live here. [Condo] 3605.

"Oh TWENTY SIX-05."

"Naw, 36-05"

"Sir, we don't have a 36th floor here. We only have 26."

"How you gon' tell me where I stay at?!? You acting like I don't know where I live at! I stay in 36-05! 36-05! 36-0..."

"Sir could you please hold?"

And I hit the 'hold' button so I wouldn't have to snap on his ignorant ass. If he would've given me half a second I could've saved his stupid ass from taking extra breaths, carrying on and shit. I hit 'resume' and he's still screaming and hollering, presumably to someone in the background.

"She tryna tell me I don't know where I live. I know where the hell I live 36-05! Sheeit, gon' tell me. She talking 'bout there's only 26 floors. Sheeit... She don't know what she talking 'bout."

"Sir, thanks for holding." [I said this with the sweetest smile in my voice, like I didn't even hear him acting a complete ass. Not that he woulda cared.] "Sir, do you live at the Twelve Centennial Park or the Twelve Atlantic Station?"

"CENTENNIAL PARK!"

"This is the Twelve Atlantic Station sir and we only have 26 floors." ['asshole']

[slight pause over the phone, but no apology of course.]

"See, I don't know why they transferred me to y'all. I live here, shit, well, that fall back on them. That's they fault. Aaight."

"Mmm hmm" [click].

I'm so tired of dealing with people who don't know how to deal with people. I gotta get on so I can stop doing this shit. But it was laughable- this time. Sometimes you don't feel like dealing with them though.

Do It Now!

So I have FIVE years to thirty. As of last Wednesday, the 6th, your girl is a whole 25 years old. I just wanted to lay in bed the whole day though. Looking pathetic. When 2008 began I was like, "Ima make a change, for real, I'm going to make a series of serious, positive changes in my life." It wasn't one of those wack epiphanies that people say come January 1st. "Ima lose weight" or "Ima save more money." It was a real deal realization within myself like, "Shit has GOT to change this year. No more excuses left and no more time to look back and say 'Damn, I shoulda...'" But it still bothers me when I think about it.

I can't complain about my life too tough though. My little girl just turned three. She's happy and healthy and she's just started dance class on Saturdays. She's so funny, she doesn't know too much now, but she knows that she LOVES dancing. So how can I be mad at anything? The most important person in my life is good so I'm good. Generally speaking that is...

Careerwise, I've been working on this book off and on, and I know that I should be tackling it head on but I just don't have the energy or the peace of mind most of the time. Nick Cannon is down here in the A this weekend, throwing a party for the launch of his new magazine, Style and Substance [raising eyebrows]. He's staying at the hotel I work in, and it wasn't until the last minute when I thought maybe I should ask him for the magazine's contact number. I couldn't get to him then. S Word!

Jarvis told me that I should really try to watch my language around the baby. She dropped something today and was like, "FUCK!"
He said, "KAMAIA! What did you say?"

"Sorry Daddy! Sorry! I sorry Daddy!"

"Who you learn that from?"

"Mommy say that, Mommy say that. And she tell me 'Don't say that word!'

Awful. LOL. So I picked that up from a couple girls I work with. Instead of cursing for now, I'll be like "S Word!"

Peace and Love,
Nadine G.