Fucking Up.

I just used the word fuck as a title for this thing. I'm halfway convinced that nobody else is ever going to read it. Therefore I can say fuck fuck fuck. guilt free. This makes me giggle to myself. Just a little bit. as a server you become very used to watching your mouth.

This can be a challenge the second you step into the back of the house you might as well be on a Naval ship, or a strip joint in Vegas. It's dirty, very dirty in the back. Shit fuck damn flies around your head like mosquitos in the summer time. But the most common is 'fucking up' This holds so much meaning can encompass so many different things. It's like buying a vowel on jeopardy. when you hear 'fucking up' in a restaurant well, there are more potential meanings behind it than just about anything else you can think of.

I fucked up tonight. In my own defense I fell the night before ended up in the ER, sprained the ankle I had surgery on last winter. I'm messed up. It has however become fairly routine for me that anytime I see a doctor they give me drugs. I'm not talking prescription strength ibuprofen i'm talking serious narcotics here. As of right now if I were to find a street corner and 'sell off' my stash I could pay off my car. Too bad it's illegal and I have a certain paranoia about getting caught. So, guess i'll have to continue to make my payments like the good law abiding citizen I am.

As to the fuck ups. I'm not that waitress. There's always one. The one that orders things wrong, fires early or late, opens the wrong wine, crashes plates on the way to the dining room. You get it. That is not me. I don't make mistakes. I have a system that never lets me down. I repeat people when they order cocktails and wine. I do not forget. Yeah, sounds a bit like ego but I'm entitled like I said, I don't fuck up. But, give the girl half a percocept and all kinds of strange things can happen. I ordered those cocktails, went to the bar picked up the beers for another table looked at the cocktails and left them there. I spilled the sparkling wine while lighting the fondue burner, ordered a soup instead of salad. Fired tables too early. Fired a table too late. Thank god my English impaired busser was paying attention.

So with the exception of one spill my tables didn't notice. It's almost like it didn't happen. Except I know it did. Drives me crazy even at 1:20 in the morning I'm pissed. My white coats will now be suspicious of me for the next few days. the cocky twenty year old intern making salads will think he's got one up on me. It just sucks. I will now go back to work tomorrow and do it better, the way I usually do it. Without the percocept. Ibuprofen will be fine.