at the joint – november 20-something
Being alone here makes me nervous. having to work at 12 makes me nervous, feeling rushed. drinking a double G&T with a stale lime and i have to go pee already. i want to ask these people for a job but i’m afraid to. looks like there’s enough staff here, working, standing around. being rejected is embarrassing and they might be gay so my charms won’t work on them. once i get to the bottom of this drink and have another i’ll ask for a job. i like this place. i’m kinda hiding back here, smoking by a stupid candle. i can’t even look up to see who is looking at me. i really fucking dig this funksoul music. this black lady is singing. to me. once i go to the bathroom everything will be better. i’m totally losing my fucking nerve. back from bathroom. looked in the mirror. i think i’m pretty enough to work here. i useto be so ballsy. i don’t remember if that’s true. perhaps i was just more obnoxious. but only with people who are stupider than me. i want to go and i want to stay. is everyone looking at me? why? because i am alone and stupid. who is the manager here? i am afraid. my pulse is a thousand beats per second. am i going to have a nervous breakdown everyfuckingplace i go to get a job? probably. this – this is my burden. marked like caine. maybe they want to speak to me. this guy, he’s cute. wants to speak to me. i’m convinced. he’s just nervous, intimidated. that or he’s gay.
ok there. i asked. the wrong guy. they’re all full. the manager isn’t even in. ihave no luck. none. zero. fuck me fuck me. i should just leave now without paying. probably a good idea. i’ve already had a zillion drinks. oh great i just ordered another. i’m superfucked. drunkly. my fantasies of working in this pretty place are over. i don’t like this place so much anymore. not doing so good at space impact II on my cell phone. i’m drunk already. 11:11pm. i won’t be outta here ’til 11:30 then i’ll be in a cab off to work. the slutfactory. must call for crazy appointment tomorrow! now i am hellbent on getting another job tho’ i don’t really want one or to look for one or give up all the ridiculous free time i have. i will NOT stay up ’til 8 in the morning tonite. goddammit. my god. i’m loaded. i need to drink up or i will never get out of here. i think i may have just got pen on my chin. this embarrasses me tho’ i cannot afford another trip to the bathroom just to see. tho’ i might because i am bored already. i hate the people over there at their shared table. all of them? yes. all of them. is that chefguy trying to read what i am writing? i think so. i do. i think i’m done writing for now. i close my book.
my neck is sore. my shoulders, my back. i am not going to approach people anymore. they will approach me. i am smoking another cigarette and it is good.
next day
coolhandluke and i both get nervous when we have to walk across a room so we scratch our heads or fiddle with our hair.
so i was gonna go out last nite before work but the place i like to eat and get sloshed at was packed so i walked away from it and walked up and down the street looking for another hot spot and everything sucked. it was friday nite. the skids are out, spilling out of cabs and phonebooths. ugggg. so i went to kfc to brown bag it over to work and asked the cute asian girl how she liked her job and she said it was easy and just near where she lived and i said once you leave this place you will realise how abusive the atmosphere is. you don’t need this minimum-wage bullshit. really.
she probably thought i was a lesbo.
i bumped into these girls i kinda know. the sister is the one who asked if i slept with her sister’s ex-bf at the art system party. she is an ice queen. i think the other sister hates me but apparently she thinks i am nice. there is more paranoia for you.
today i am going to buy a sexy curtain and go tothe tanning salon.
Laura Petrie is my bestest new york city friend. we finally have a shared blog. read it and you’ll see why we get along so well.
