Hey, so it’s been awhile here.
Last Wednesday I got fired. I worked there for two and half years and I can’t stop thinking about it. I get choked up thinking about my last day of serving. This was way before I even had a clue i was going to be fired. I remember I had a table of teenagers and they were quiet, knew what they wanted. No trouble at all. The man sitting across the next table wanted their bill. Didn’t know them or anything. He just wanted to pay it forward. He left me a 30 dollar tip and I split it in half with a fellow server. I closed that night just by offer. All within the week I noticed some peculiar patterns. Say, signs.
1. my ex tells me he fucked another girl during the July 4th weekend and i never asked him shit about that. didn’t feel a thing just looked at him like hes a fuckin idiot.
2. my manager tells me he has a girlfriend, looking for a reaction out of me.
3. they kept scheduling me to do prepping (i was a server), went behind my back without saying anything and put me back to dispensing (a lower position) for a week to punish me
4. i was being sexually harassed constantly by several different coworkers.
5. i think they all didn’t like the fact that i had relations with coworkers there so they used my past as a weight of discrimination against my “tight pants”
6. ultimately the last decision of them firing me was because I wore the same pants I wore when my manager told me they were too tight on me. I did it on purpose after i needed a shift covered and they told me no so i came in with the tight pants (hahaaha and the funny thing is other girls have their hips hanging out their pants are so tight but nooo i get picked on) :D
7. i was not being recognized for my work ethic, instead being discriminated for shit like my tattoos, tight pants and having a shitty attitude towards motherfuckers who hit on me.
8. whats wrong with this picture?
9. And to put the cherry on top of it, me being a responsible adult, of age goes out drinking, knowing i have work at 9 am. i left the party at around midnight and went home went straight to bed and woke up a lil hungover but on time and ready to work. spent all day at work in every condition i am always in; happy, motivated and swift.
10. but somewhere along the line another sneaky manager slips in that i had asked to go home early because i “wasn’t feeling well” WHICH NEVER CAME OUT OF MY MOUTH.
I now know your job isn’t about how hard you work, it all depends on how much of a kiss ass you are. and apparently varies on how tight your pants come to be.
Since i made a lot of money there, and money is pretty powerful.. i have been taking note of how many times i get choked up about missing it there.
I am trying to release the negativity of that cry and breathe the concept of money out of my mind.
" are we free or afraid of what we’re told?"
"are we out of, or under control? "
Money will come and go. It will come to me as i give my best. I deserve to be happy and have people recognize me for me and when I am working, notice how great of a worker I really am.