One Last Night
Done with Il Posto for 6 weeks. Thank fucking god. Tonight was...hectic. To say the least. Big table with fucked up orders, Frank going off his nut, and...yeah. I dunno, but for some reason, no matter how well I prepare my station, no matter how good the food looks, SOMEONE finds something to complain about, even if its only me not having time to refill the balsamic vinagrette. Which one of the assholes at work...honestly, the guy's an asshole, a nice asshole, but he's still a pigfucking asshole...was kind enough to point out to Frank when he was at his highest freakout point.
Ah well. Frank's quick to forgive, and he wished me well when I left.
Saturday is my last day at Sharkey's. Gone to England by Monday. Got books, now just need to pack.
Ah well. Frank's quick to forgive, and he wished me well when I left.
Saturday is my last day at Sharkey's. Gone to England by Monday. Got books, now just need to pack.
posted by Derek the Bard at 3:40 a.m.
1 Comments:
Hey!
Its Ryan. With the new 'bombings' I won't be able to make it tonight. I am going to be stuck on standby with the Hospital. Not to mention the fact they closed down Westminster and Waterloo stations. I sent you an email as well. I didn't want you to wait or worry or anything. I will call you later tonight to see if we can get some coffee this weekend, if your schedule permits.
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