Keeping track of unfortunate events.

Since about the beginning of time, or at least since I've begun to laugh at these unfortunate events and retell them to other people, I have noticed that God places me in some very interesting situations and I get a lot of rain on my parades. Not in a sense that you should feel sorry for me after reading these stories, because you shouldn't, but rather laugh and be glad that this unbelieveable crap isn't happening to you on a daily basis.

I have retold many of the stories I plan to post on here to many of my close friends and family so if you come across one that you may already know either A. Get over it, or B. Relive the excitement and horror all over again and keep reading. :)

I can tell you that most of these stories have been cooped up in my hat rack for awhile now so they may not come out in order, but I will do my best to update you on the time, place and level of awkwardness I had reached at that time in my life.

So, sit back and enjoy some kick-you-in-the-crotch-spit-on-your-neck fantastic stories. My life is rarely boring.


Now that I have actually sat down to take the time to start blogging this disaster, I can't seem to pinpoint a great tale to begin with. Let me start by telling you about where many of my stories may be coming from, at least the most recent stories:


1. I am a server at a chicken restuarant.
2. This particular chicken slangin' establishment is open until 2am everyday of the week, which leads to a lack of sleep, tons of irritability and a certain blossoming hatred for people.
3. I am in college, and I live with two roommates. I do love these two lovely chupacabras, really I do. But some of the things that happen in this apartment need to be shared with people. It's a constant sitcom.
4. These said roommates are ALSO my coworkers. We get lots of bonding time. ;)
5. I attract really stupid friends. I love these friends because they make me look a lot smarter and let me prove my dominance over them all the time, and many of these stories would not be as fun with out them but Lordy lordy, the crayons in my box are dull and don't have their paper labels on them anymore.


Whiiiiich leads me to my first tale that covers many of this factors:

I work at this restuarant fine dining chicken. The managers are irritable and the other servers often compete for an "I hate my job the most" title on a daily basis, its a lovely time. Really. Not to mention the hoodrat trash that comes in and I have to fake a smile for and hold back my desire to beat on their head like a bongo. BUT THATS BESIDE THE POINT-

This particular morning was carrying on just like every other, we were all instructed by the grumpy managers to Pledge the wooden chairs and wipe things down that weren't dirty to "look busy." And when we were done "looking busy" we were supposed to just make laps around the bar... awkward and pointless, but this was only a reward for us finally pledging everything and all the chairs were so greasy you were guaranteed to look like you had a bad case of anal leakage when you stood up, if you even were able to hold on to that slippery chair long enough to sit down. These things stay greased up, baby.

Anyway, mildly busy morning when all of a sudden there was a strange smell taking over the kitchen area, then slowly but surely the drains were backing up and flooding the kitchen. Now, this doesn't seem to matter except its not like we can avoid going into the kitchen. No matter how hard I try to look busy doing something else. So 30 minutes or so after the first notice of sewage smell the kitchen was literally filled with water. I had to tiptoe around to make sure I wasn't up to my ankles in shit-water by the time I made it out to the tables again to fake a smile and refill their glass of sweet tea for the 3536th time.

The managers and cooks were all in a panic and we were instructed to "not make a scene" so the guests wouldn't become aware that they were now being served from the bottom of the Ninja Turtle tunnel.

It. Was. Gross.

We were literally slopping around in this water, and blocking the view to the kitchen by putting trashcans in the way. Like really? You didnt notice all of a sudden your server was wet and smelled funny?

But no, the show must go on people, despite health code, smealth code. It's all good. People need their chicken like they need the crack sweet tea. Gross.

Finally while every manager was crowded around this one drain trying to snake it or something (clearly I avoided the situation at all costs) the manager that had been in the least pleasant mood all day and was MAKING MY LIFE HELL not being so nice was leaning over the drain when the toxic cancer deadbody water splashed up in his face and got IN HIS MOUTH.

I will carry the mental image of his face after that happend in my head for the rest of my life.
Sweet revenge baby, sweet revenge.