Diary Queens and Seven Elevans...
Two references already. Musical references, maybe.
I've observed, working in the place that I do, and being in a concentrated workplace, that one of the smalls things to get you through every painful day is your work relationships.
Specifically, the workwife/husband. I remember, when I was only a young server, being asked who my work wife was.
How to answer this question? I didn't know what a workwife was, which, to clarify, was the term more appropriate to my own heterosexual tendencies.
Broad-spectrum (I've adopted that term from House!), the concept of the work-spouse is, I think, an important one. A member of the appropriately attractive sex that gets you through the day. At barest value, the acute reader understands. Who is the specific one for you? Think about it.
When I started, I was but modest and kept my opinions to my manipulated self. There were peculiar servers, a particular lady server, perhaps, that I considered my "work wife". In retrospect, our relationship no where neared the requirements.
Because your work wife is somebody, in my case the woman, that you share a specific bond with, a bond that only the two of you have in common, and bond that she doesn't extend to any of the other staff members. Miss Canned, Mrs. Buster, and I, didn't have that marriage: I only looked up to her.
The next girl to come along, sure, we flirted. There was something, I think: She was a cute blond girl, artistic; but she extended our relationship to include a cook, and eventually exclude me, and now she doesn't even work at the Chain anymore, likely because of what didn't work out.
Since then, I've struggled to fill the void, engage a new work wife, and nothing is working. Is this why work sucks?
Because, quite simply, all of the potential candidates are quite taken with somebody else, or else, too dangerously fill the bill. Which is to say, I don't want to start a work-only flirting relationship with the cute, bilingual Spanish-type naivete, because I'd rather not explain in a month why I can't indulge in something more, that relationship that comes with the I'm-trying-to-be-nice-about-this freshman package. Don't get me wrong, she's a nice enough girl and yesterday's hug was, particularly, extended. But I'm too aware of those doughy eyes, you understand? And what do I want with new girls who have never served before, and are too taken with the arrogant assholes our own sponsored asshole has decided to hire? There's Bar, but she's taken and I respect her Man, and his local replacement; Mamma's the same age as my mother, and she's being threatened by local forces; etc, etc, etc, until all that's left is the most unlikely option, but the best choice.
What can I say, I'm ambitious? Sheldon copped a feel today! I'm two days late, but I haven't gaped a smile that big in a coon's age.
I haven't had this much whiskey intravenously in just as long. I'm depressed tonight, and looking at pictures of Lovely times isn't improving it. I expect to realize when I've hit rock bottom, and I expect I'm getting close. Water, Jack, a handle I've already replaced that warrants finishing...the hangover later, when I needs be doing work. I skipped even class today, papers are late, because I was too tired to leave bed. Is this because I am in fact exhausted, or is it something more? Depression? A shuffling of habits? Chain music? Which I'm streaming right now, by the way, and I addictively can't stand Hallmark Stars (The Lackloves: this is another song that is just plainly too obnoxious over the Chain's lousy-ass PA system). I realize I've just made a contradictory observation, but what do you expect from an observer who, just this morning, was ready with three of his greatest sub-conscious quotes ever (because last night, in Dreamy, the Quotable bit of me brain was working full-time, and I woke with the genuine intention of publishing it all: thankfully, I've forgotten everything since then, although instincts still suggest the brain's contributions were pretty bad-ass)?
Wu-wei. Sometimes, the flow is all you've got, but it's hard as hell to go against.
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