BLOG: Pure Apathy

Humanity is ridiculous. I’ve always known this, but lately I’ve gotten to the point where I’m just ready for some aliens to show up and obliterate us all.

My new job doesn’t help. I am being paid $7.50/hr with an unknown amount of tips going on my paycheck I get once every two weeks. I don’t have health insurance. I’m surrounded by rich people who don’t social distance or wear masks. The younger employees are all wrapped up in drama. I’m totally disconnected from all of it. I don’t care. I just stare out at the gorgeous river views as I wash the dishes and wish for a better life.

Yesterday was hilarious to me. The 21-year-old server flipped out on me for correcting her on the difference between an Old-Fashioned and a Manhattan. I literally just memorized this, so I knew I was right. I calmly told her she was describing a Manhattan, told her I have been bartending and serving longer than she has, and that I know what the fuck I’m doing. She had a total fucking meltdown. I didn’t care. I just made the drink and stared out at the river again.

Sometime later, a decent-looking older man showed up with no wedding ring on. He’s a rich doctor with houses in other states. He comes in on Saturdays because he likes to talk to the bartenders to cure his loneliness. I talked to him because that is my job. I’m also sick of working this shitty fucking job, so yeah, I’m gonna schmooze with the rich guy.

The server decided I was talking to him too much and flipped out on me again. She went on a rant about how some CEO of some big shit was there and he was more important and I wasn’t making the drinks she was leaving sitting on the bar for five minutes at a time fast enough. I still didn’t give a single flying fuck. In fact, I gave less of a fuck knowing that some overly-entitled rich asshole was throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get his Michelob Ultra with olives the second he ordered it.

I kept making the drinks and talking to the customer and staring out at the river and just not giving a single fuck. The server went on the have a massive meltdown after the rush and cried to the manager and threatened to quit because the job was so hard. I just wanted to take her aside and say, “You care about this shit way too much. They could fire you tomorrow. Everything you’ve been stressing out about will not matter. They don’t care about you. They don’t care how hard you try. They will throw you out on the street with nothing over the pettiest fucking bullshit and gaslight you into thinking you deserved it. It is not worth it to cry over this fucked up bullshit.”

That was when the excitement started. My boss rolled up the hill in the malfunctioning work cart and almost ran over a table full of customers. It was horrible but actually pretty fucking hilarious to watch. It was the most exciting thing I’d seen all day. Cue another meltdown from the server.

I realized I don’t get paid enough for this shit and I don’t care about anything. I was tired, my feet hurt, and this table insisted on staying another hour and a half so they could get hammered and openly discuss about the various ways they all pee in their showers. Yes, really. I really had to stay late to crack open beers for a table of drunk rich people openly discussing their piss. LOL, I hate my life.

When I finally came home from work, I thought about how ridiculous my life is before passing the fuck out. I then proceeded to dream about Andrew’s wife all night. It sucked. I hate everything. I am so indifferent to the fucking world right now. I was supposed to be in Yellowstone. Instead I am here, dealing with this. Oh well.

Heading to a BBQ with Mad Dog now. I guess I could go see my family but that will just end with them screaming at me and blaming me for all of the misfortune in their lives. I’m over it. BBQ it is.


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