Lately I’ve been having these scary ass dreams. And no, they’re not exactly nightmares but definitely come close. I usually use my cell phone as my alarm and I have a habit of snoozing or simply not hearing it so I put two alarms on my phone that are two minutes apart and both are shockingly loud and totally scary. The phone is typically next to my pillow so that I don’t have to reach two far to snooze it. Ha. But for some reason I put it on the table one night. (I remember why, it’s because it needed charging.) Anyways I have this scary ass dream that I didn’t hear my phone because it was too far away and I was 3 hours late for work. Somehow, high stress situations like this really hurt my brain. I had another dream where I was at work and for some reason the restaurant was packed and I had people really pissed off at me because there was a three hour wait. Who in their right mind would wait 3 hours to eat dinner? What’s wrong with these people? Needless to say, the combination of these two dreams have led me to believe that my job is stressing me out way more than I need to be right now. My psoriasis is definitely getting worse, and I don’t think it’s going to go away anytime soon. Mostly I blame the drama with the people at work, but I will go into detail about that next time. Point of this entry, I think I need to start meditating.

You know how sometimes you don’t really know how much you love something unless you’re deprived of it for a while then you get it back? It’s like that with football. I’ve had to work for the majority of the games which kind of sucks, but right now I’m watching Packers versus Seahawks and all I can think about is how fucking awesome football is.

Last night I was at the bar and usually the people who go there are people who work at restaurants from around the area and they just go there after work. There is an unusually high amount of resent/hatred towards retarded people who go out to eat at restaurants. We had a discussion on all the things that waiters hate about customers, so I came up with a list, just to educate y’all. I really hope to just make it so that my friends/ people who read this don’t look like jackasses when they go out to eat with me.

1. If you want to be cheap and not tip your server, don’t go out to eat. Stay at home, seat your own damn friends, cook your own damn food, wash your own damn dishes, and deal with your shitty friends’ crap. You save money, piss off less people, AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO TIP! YAYYYYY.
2. When the host brings you to a table and you don’t like it, deal with it jackass. Honestly, there’s probably a good reason they brought you to that table, just because you don’t understand it, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. If you sit at a different table, your server might change and you may have screwed someone out of making an extra $0.20 of tip from your cheap ass. If you really want to be a bitch and switch seats, don’t demand for a different table, ASK! Say please! And thank you!
3. Your waiter is not your bitch, be nice, they might spit in your food. Really, they might.
   
4. If you have kids, tell them to sit their ass down and don’t let them run around unless they’re asking for some extreme 3^rd degree burns and skin grafts. When I was a kid and we went out, I wasn’t allowed out of the chair, and if I got up, my Chinese parents would be sure to make a scene and bitch at me.
   
5. If you are going out to eat with me, don’t tip less than 15% for average service (you may tip 12% for shitty service).

For one reason or another, Chinese people are hell of cheap. It’s no wonder I only have two Asian friends that I go out with. It’s also probably because they’re rich; by rich I mean that they aren’t cheap.

So…about the butt hair boy…on Christmas Eve, I had to work with Erin and she’s my boss. So she goes, “Jenn, I sure could use a cup of coffee right now…mocha would be perfect.” But of course, to make life difficult for me, she doesn’t want it from our restaurant; she wants me to go get her some exotic coffee from somewhere else. So I trek my way over to Peet’s just to find out that it’s CLOSED! WTF. Duh. It’s Christmas Eve, I forgot. So I walk…an additional two blocks to arrive at a closed Starbucks that probably closed like two minutes before I arrived. Bad timing. So I look across the street at Barnes and Nobles, thinking to myself, “Hmm should I go over there? I practically ran two blocks to get some coffee…OKAY!” So I suck it up and walk in…only after seeing the white guy’s bald head through the window though. I know, I’m a pansy, I admit it. I walk in there all confident and happy, because I avoided seeing butt hair boy and to my surprise, as I walk in, the white guy is walking towards me. I quickly glance towards the coffee place and FUCK, I see the top of his head and groan to myself.

Two options; One, turn back now and be a pansy, or Two, be brave and act like nothing happened. I walk in confidently, and go, “HEY DUDE.” I said it really loudly too so I think I scared him a bit because he didn’t see me coming. At first conversation goes pretty normal, he talks about how his dad is in town, and then I tell him about my epic search for coffee. He replies with, “Avoiding me that much huh?” Me. “…Not really…?” What a lie huh? Pretty obvious one too.  Then he says to me, “You smell good.” Me. “Oh…thanks.” I just ran like two blocks and was probably sweating. How could I possibly smell good? Then he’s asking me about my hair and whether I’ve changed it. The answer was no, it’s exactly the same as before. Him. “You look hot.” Me. “Oh…umm thanks.” Uhh awkward…? I probably looked worse that day than most other days because I was late and ran out of the house to go to work. It was also slightly raining and we all know what that does to my hair. POOF! Fro.

Then he tells me in Chinese that he’s really tired because he’s been smoking opium all week long. I’m used to being around people who do all kinds of drugs but opium??! Maybe it’s some kind of Asian thing? At this point, I decide that I really need to leave and get away from him. “Oh, I gotta get back to work before I get fired! Bye!”

I guess in comparison to the previous story this one is not as weird, but it’s still strange. He hasn’t called me or anything though, which I am relieved about. I was considering deleting his number but decided against it. Actually, I deleted it then put it back in, just in case he calls, I’ll know who’s calling and hopefully have the sense not to pick up. This always happens, I have phone numbers of all these people I don’t want to talk to simply so that I will know not to answer. At least three of these numbers are labeled “Don’t Answer.” I should change this guy’s name to Butt Hair Boy. Whaddaya think?