Tired girls get all the goods
So work last night went swimmingly enough. At one point early on I noticed a guy who had a big Steve O tattoo on his back and made fun of him for the horrendous quality of the work, as well as the Dude, I rock that was emblazoned on skin. He was with a group of people who drank a fuck of a lot, and only after I heard his voice did I know it was Steve O. Later on he emptied his wallet of all the cash he had to tip me since he had been screaming my name to get he and some girls we was cavorting with beverages for several hours. That other dude from Wild Boys was with him. They stayed pretty late in the bar considering they probably could have been drinking for free elsewhere. We don’t comp there, nor give anything away for free- not unless you are a direct employee, and only rarely do you hear the “What, $14 for a little drink like this?” We often reply with “you pay for the view”; someone said, “or the help”. I was like “no, sweetheart, we make the $3.75 to be here, and the money we make is in tips”. How obscene it is for people to understand that people in the service industry are NOT on salary, but rely on generous tipping to survive? This hotel has been really funny for the celebrity watching; that has become standard with my last two jobs. With the gym there was Britney and random actors and actresses, Katie Holmes, Liev Schreiber, etc etc. On Monday Metallica stayed at the hotel, too, and we kept waiting for them to make their appearance, which they did, but only for a minute or two. I have this philosophy about celebrities: I really don’t care who you are, because you shit and stink like everyone else. I am not a mouth gaper or anything like that, which probably paved the way for Steve O’s (his last name starts with a G, by the way) statement, “you would never ask your man to lick your asshole, but you probably wouldn’t tell him to stop if he did it”. That made me laugh, but apparently wasn’t what some ritzy ditzy girls wanted to hear, as he stated to me after. I told him he was awesome (especially after emptying out his wallet to me), and he really wasn’t as much of a tard as he coulda been.
Ah well. Tonight, tomorrow, Sunday, and Monday. Then maybe a trip away on Tuesday/Wednesday.
My manager asked me if I knew anyone else who looked like me to work there, which is funny since I hang around zero tattooed people. I guess I am a decent enough conversation piece, sparking men to rip their shirts off to show me their shitty work, and inciting conversations about “I want to get one but I don’t know what to get”.
bla bla bla.
Tired ass has to get going.
Cheers.
