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I was working two jobs with 6-7days a week, including working at my aunt's restaurant. I do my best to respect the customers, even if they get s-ty. That rarely happens, I can get through a whole weekend without negative feedback... directed towards me that is. The last Saturday of June made one hassle. Each Saturday morning, I would unload ice from the larger ice machine in the back of the restaurant and take the ice to the front ice stall. At most times, I would have to take 2-4 trips there and back. On my fourth time walking to the ice stall in front, a raggy anguish female voice yells: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I was debating if that was going to me or somebody else, when I turned around, it was a table with 3 women and one man, two of the women were I'd say in there 50s, the man was say in his 40s and the other woman in all likelihood in her 30s or 40s who was bulky and overweight. The question was asked by the overweight woman and then she asked, "what are you doing bringing that bucket here back and forth?" in a shitty tone of voice. I replied, "It's Ice." She gave me a faint look, and I just walked off to continue my work.

And later that day, I would have a very sharp pain in my backside. So sharp that I could not even walk for some few seconds while the sharp pain was kicking in. Quite paralyzing, isn't it? I must say it was painful. After the pain subsided, I was able to get back to work after standing there for 30 seconds. Wondering what the hell was that all about. One thing I did not like at working at the restaurant was how a customer would sit on an unclean table, and then complain that the table is not clean. And sometimes, this would happen at a time where there are plenty of tables to sit at, a time when we are not particularly busy. But somehow, someway, these people who are more intelligent that I am, cannot tell the difference between clean and not spiffy.

Working at the restaurant that weekend was angering me as well, it also made me more angry when on the following Sunday. My cousin's friends came by. My cousin was by the table supposedly saying things about me because everyone on that table at a number of times would look at me and laugh. I was guessing, "she is talking s*t or maybe just her friends were high on marijuana or a drug of sorts." Probably magic mushrooms? I thought to myself, "That's nice, sorry my 22-year-old ass is working as a busboy, I didn't think you are higher than I because Mom and Dad still support your stupid unemployed asses." When 3 o'clock rolled around, I finished up, said goodbye to my Aunt and Uncle, (my aunt wanted me to kiss and hug her before I go, but I believe I'm too old for that, she probably believes I'm still 'retarded') and virtually ran to my van and drove off fast. It was a hard weekend and a bad one. First, I got some raggedy s*k bitching at me for working, next, some a*hole sits on a dirty table and complains that the table is not clean (while we have plenty of CLEAN tables to sit at), and lastly, my cousin's friends come by to say "Hey, [my cousin's name], you cousin is a q*r." Nice, now say that to my face.

Learn more about this author, Adrian Henderson.
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