r-e-s-p-e-c-t

I found this fitting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As most of you know by now, I work in an airport. More specifically, I tend bar in an airport. My theory is that once the majority of passengers make it through security, they leave a few brain cells back there on the conveyor belt. We see a variety of people pass through our restaurant; some are pleasant (I’ve met some awesome people doing what I do), some are morons, some are rude, and some see that invisible line and hop, skip and jump right over it. I’m talking zero regard or respect for others. They think they can do or say whatever they please. I don’t take kindly to that. 

More specifically – and the inspiration for today’s post – I do not take kindly to grown men who act like scumbags, and/or talk disrespectfully to women. The first thing that comes to mind when I see or experience this: How would you feel if someone talked to your daughter like that? Secondly: How about your wife? Thirdly: Do you even have a wife? I sure hope not. And here, for your personal anger and entertainment, is a prime example.

Saturday night. We’re about an hour into our 8-9 hour shift, the other 2 lady bartenders and I. Things are going smoothly – thank goodness – and a man approaches my bar. I greet him with a menu and he asks for 2 more, as he has 2 friends who will be joining him. Sure thing. I drop another 2 menus on the bar. I knew his friends had arrived when I heard someone yell a greeting across the restaurant, as if they were outdoors or in their own living room. The table I’d been dropping food off to looked up, startled. I gave them an awkward smile and turned to watch the three men greet each other. I approached the bar and took their drink order. Easy enough. I grabbed 3 beers and placed them on the bar. Then things got busy.

When things pick up one of the other bartenders will usually take that little sliver of bar where the three men were sitting. This particular bartender is extremely friendly, even when people are acting like douche-bags. As I was standing at the front of the restaurant, she approached me and gave me their food order, mentioning something about not wanting to deal with them anymore.

“What happened?” I asked.

“They were talking about wanting to buy a t-shirt, then said they wanted my shirt, like, off of my back.”

I could feel my blood starting to simmer. “What?? They said they wanted your shirt?”

They implied they wanted her to take off her shirt. She told them that was inappropriate, and the ringleader replied with “Sorry if I offended you.”

Now my blood was boiling.

As calmly as I could, I approached the three men. At this point I wasn’t sure of who said what, since apparently they were all involved, so I did it like this:

“Listen, whichever one of you made an inappropriate comment to the other bartender, don’t let it happen again. She was extremely offended and we can kick you out for things like that.” Of course they scrambled to defend themselves, mumbling about just wanting to buy a shirt, blah, blah, blah. A women and her husband next to them stepped in, claiming they did nothing wrong. I then said if that is the case then I am the one who is sorry, but please be careful how you word things. I was looking out for one of my own. “I totally understand,” the woman said. Case closed, right? Of course not.

I continued to take care of the men, a few more minutes went by, then the ringleader spoke again. “Excuse me, are you the bartender?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why did you come over here giving us shit?”

“You offended one of my bartenders, sir. Then I even made an apology to you saying if you didn’t mean anything by it, that’s fine, but to please watch how you word things.”

He then asked for my manager, complained, tried to get him to take care of the bill. No, no, and no. My manager said once he was close to the man it looked like he’d been drinking before he arrived at our bar. I hadn’t noticed anything more than his stupidity. More time passed,  blah, blah, blah, he rudely asked me if he could pay. “Sure!” I said. Good, get the hell out. Of course I wasn’t expecting a tip after his experience.

But what I really wasn’t expecting was the word “Bitch” to be sloppily scrawled where a tip would normally be. He left before I even had time to see it. Coward. His friends stayed though, and after the ringleader was gone they were all “please” and “thank you” and “yes ma’am”.

I believe in karma, scumbag. And it will come for you. I also believe in standing up for yourself, defending yourself or others you care for. And if that warrants me a bitch, then so be it.

Daily Prompt: What A Waste!

Write your own eulogy.

We’re gathered here today to remember a daughter, a friend, a fiance, a writer, a runner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nicole Marie may have spent too much time taking meaningless pictures of herself, or hitting the bottle, but we won’t remember her simply for her narcissism or her alcoholism; no, Nicole Marie will also be remembered, not always fondly, for her love of serial killers, video games, and procrastination.

When she set a goal for herself, Nicole Marie (usually) followed through. She began work on her first novel years ago, and after several struggles to stay motivated was very close to a finished manuscript. It’s really too bad she croaked before delivering it to the agent lady. I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for her. But at least she managed to get her name out there one time before leaving us forever.

Nicole Marie also had plans to run her first full marathon, a huge fitness goal she’d been looking forward to after years of struggling with body image. This was it, this was the goal of all goals, a mental and physical challenge she couldn’t wait to rip to shreds. She was only two weeks into training when it happened. Ah, well.

Her blog had finally started to gain speed, thanks to a mysterious clown and his blogging superpowers; she was so excited, so honored to be making so many amazing blogging friends (she’d even gained a second mom and dad), and spent most of her days sharing her blogging excitement with her wonderful fiance, Joe AKA Charlie. But now her blog will stand still for the rest of eternity – unless she is bad ass enough to figure out how to post from the other side. In which case, I’m sure she will take several dumb pictures of herself drinking good beer in a hot tub. And we all wanna see that.

Our thoughts are with her friends and family, who have lost one of the greatest human beings ever to grace this earth. It’s too bad she didn’t get off her ass and accomplish more during her short time with us. She could have been something truly great. Her fiance, Joe, is especially sad, since she will no longer be there to obsessively vacuum the dog’s hair off of the couch.

Her will was simple: Don’t bother donating my liver. It’s no good. But have someone skin me for my tattoos and use them as artwork above their fireplace. That’d be awesome. Oh, and question the creepy neighbor about my death. He knows. See ya!

Rest easy, Nicole Marie. We hope you’re drinking that big Paisano in the sky (or, you know…down there).

Remember me as a time of day. Happy hour. 

Other freshly departed:

http://mairedubhtx.wordpress.com/2013/01/25/daily-prompt-dearly-departed/

http://stuphblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/25/daily-prompt-dearly-departed/

http://lyricalanarchy.wordpress.com/2013/01/25/autoeulogy-of-hotspur-a-daily-prompt-post/#comment-1220

http://hastywords.wordpress.com/2013/01/25/just-someone-once/

http://cherispeak.wordpress.com/2013/01/25/chat-in-the-box/

I’ll link to more as they filter in! 

And of course, don’t forget to enjoy the Friday Foolishness:

http://guapola.wordpress.com/2013/01/25/friday-foolishness-runners-edition/

The Other Woman – Romantic Monday

Welcome!! This is my offering for the first official Romantic Monday, freshly founded by the one and only Edward Hotspur. Click here to read his romantically romantic post. Please don’t judge me too badly as you watch this little introduction I’ve thrown together. But do enjoy the background music and the beautiful face of my very best friend. (And just a reminder…it’s New Jersey, not New Joizey.)

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way….

Here is our list of everything we adore that makes us romantically connected in the most non-homosexual way (for the most part) ever.

1.) Blood does not run through our veins. Cabernet Sav-ing-yong (in that voice from the video) does. This proves we are blood related.

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2.) We always end up having the same clothes, like the same pair of leopard print draws from Walmart. (Don’t judge me….clearance…) As we got changed one afternoon, we both pointed to each other’s asses and yelled, “HEY!!!!”. This has gone on for quite a few years now. Jeans, shirts, all by mistake. This demonstrates our amazing – and identical – fashion sense.

3.) What is usually every man’s fantasy – but is Joe’s nightmare – the other Nicole (on those really, really drunk nights) will sometimes sneak into our bed. She’s the teaspoon, I’m the big spoon, Joe is the salad serving spoon. On these nights he remains fully clothed, jeans and all – studded belt, too – to avoid awkwardness. I feel bad for him as we talk in “the voice” before we fall into a deep slumber. That poor, poor man. (He enjoys calling us “dumb broads”.) This proves, as the big spoon, that I am the man in the relationship. *sigh*

4.) As more proof that we are non-sexual soul-mates, Romantic Monday falls on our official “day of play”; every Monday is full of drunken debauchery and cooking some amazingly yummy food. Of course, it’s always after a 3-10 mile run. As the other Nicole’s pop would say, “It’s all about balance, baby!” “hahaha” – the other Nicole.

This man is 58 years old and runs every. single. day. And loves his beer maybe more than we do. 😉

5.) Our passion for fun music gets our shoulders shakin’ and our booties movin’. Oh, yesh (video voice).

Even as we were posting this, we had to stop to sing, “DARKNESS, DARKNESS DARKNESS.”

6.) We are foooooo-deez. We make margarita pizza, and tilapia, and artichoke spinach dip, and more pizza, and chicken, and more pizza, and delicious, blush, vodka sauce, yummy, delicious, pasta…..and we top everything with cheese. (Healthy cheese.) 😉

We couldn’t help but dig in before we took the picture.

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7.) We share a mutual love of tattoos….so we just had to get one two-gethaaaaaa.

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8.) We love Halloween, and we love dead things, and haunted walk-throughs, and every year – instead of letting the breasts and booties hang out – we like to look like someone just ran us over. Lots of blood.

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9.) This one doesn’t necessarily connect us, but the other Nicole is one talented “lova” (nickname…video voice). Ch-ch-check it out. Click here, seriously. DO IT. Amazing things happening there. Everything completely handmade. I own 3 purses.

10.) ::drumroll::

My love for running is shared by my best friend. “YEY!” – the other Nicole. (She likes to spell “YEY” that way. I do not.) So, basically, back in the day, the other Nicole’s running father forced us to run and we almost died. But now, we are running beasts! She has completed a ten miler, and I recently finished my first half marathon. But by far….the Color Run is the funnest, most epic run we’ve ever completed (we’ve done it twice).

Philly 5K

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We completed another Color Run about 2 months ago, and our mutual love of fun music was clearly demonstrated……

My non-homo girlfriend, my partner in crime, my let’s-forget-the-world-and-get-tipsy lova, the one (besides Joe) who reads my mind when I shoot her a look. We tell it like it is, we hold nothing back, she’s a pain in my ass, I’m a pain in hers, we love and laugh and hug and fuel each other creatively and laugh again. She is amazing enough to be my first Romantic Monday post.

Enjoy (I hope).

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You’re wel-come.

xoxo,

Nicole & Nicole

The Art of Douche-bag-ism; Do’s and Do NOT’s.

Thanks, Google.

Let me explain. You know that guy that shows up at the club with 2 of his dumbest friends, already wasted because of their need to pre-game (because they’d never know what to say to women whilst sober), and proceeds to get in line behind you, then grabs the zipper on the back of your shirt, pretending he is going to unzip it? That’s a douche-bag. And once you notice and turn around armed with the deadliest look you can muster, he blames it on the douche in the plaid button-up and the three of them laugh like ten year olds at recess, after they stole the chubby kid’s peanut-butter and jelly.

Is it obvious I’ve experienced this exact scenario?

This post is inspired not only by my own experiences, but by those of my closest friends; run-ins with strangers, men we may know just a little bit, or even exes.

BUT – I will not waste any time explaining how to spot said douche-bag; by this point, we already know the guy throwing back Jager Bombs and popping his collar while yelling at the waitress for the lack of vodka in his Grey Goose and cranberry isn’t The One. So this is a small list of guidelines for those members of the opposite sex who think taking your shirt off in public is sexy.

You think you know what (the majority of) women want…but you have no idea.

DO: If you spot a girl at the bar and want to buy her a drink, buy her girlfriend another drink as well.

DO NOT: Show up with 3 shots: one for the girl you’re approaching, one for yourself and one for your friend. Now her friend is standing awkwardly in the background because you’re inconsiderate and cheap.

DO: If you think she’s pretty, politely tell her.

DO NOT: Slap her ass as she’s walking by, then give her a wink when she turns around ready to punch her harasser.

DO: Tell her you enjoy working out.

DO NOT: Ask her to grab your bicep, then ask her friends to do the same.

DO: Ask for her number, then call her the next day.

DO NOT: Ask for her number, then text her at 4AM asking to come over.

DO: Ask her for her number (again).

DO NOT: Yell across a parking lot, “YO, YOU GOT A NUMBER?” (Another embarrassing experience.)

DO: Ask her out to dinner.

DO NOT: Expect her to pay her half when the bill arrives. (Yep, been through that one too.)

DO: If you run into an ex, give a quick smile and a hello, then go about your business.

DO NOT: Run into a girl you once dated, then offer your condolences over the possibility of having ruined her night. Instead, go home and deflate your head a bit.

DO: Ask if she has a boyfriend, if you’d like to politely make sure before continuing to flirt.

DO NOT: Ask if she has a boyfriend, and when she says yes tell her she could do better then point at yourself.

DO: Hug her goodbye – or even give a kiss on the cheek – after the first meeting.

DO NOT: Try to eat her face after knowing her for five minutes. (This is assuming that the girl in this situation does not want to have her face eaten.)

DO: Send her a morning text; something sweet!

DO NOT: Send her a mirror picture at 7am of you in your boxers with the caption: “like what you see? send me something back”.

And don't EVER make this face.

Are there plenty of wonderful, intelligent, respectful men out there? Absolutely. I’m lucky enough to have one of them. Just as there are many undesirables representing my own gender.

 

So for those members of both sexes that make human beings look bad: get with the program. And lay off the vodka.