Monday, July 04, 2005

Happy Fourth of Shut Up and Go Home

O.K., so ever since I was little the fourth of July has been that holiday where I would place little firework-y tanks facign each other, and watch them fight to-the-death.

We would always have all my parent's friends over (we never had people over), and we would all go down to the beach and watch the firework display on Epply Island.

I was even able to watch as the island, for lack of a better term, blow up.

Then I turned sixteen, and since that day I haven't been able to watch the firework display.
I've only seen a glimpse of it from the long, paved path leading away from Ehrhardt's and toward the employee parking lot.

I have been at work since 7 this morning. I woke up late today, because I was up until 1 a.m. last night doing my weekly assignments and taking the quiz for my summer course. I've worked from 7 a.m. to 3, and then had a "break."

Don't let the hour break fool you, it leaves me just enough time to drive home from Exxon, shower, dress, and drive to Ehrhardt's.

Tonight, at Ehrhardt's, was the busiest night of the summer. It always is. And everyone wants to sit on the deck.
O.K., so there are eight tables on the deck, each one seats four people. YOU ALL CAN'T SIT OUT THERE.

It's been a long day, and the firworks are annoying me.

I've cleaned toilets, stocked coolers, stressed over drive-offs, told people there's an hour wait for a table, meant it, had to put them on the waiting list anyway, frantically searched for tables for reservations that arrived early, and stood on my feet for a grand total of 15 hours today.

And I needed someone to tell.

So please, sir, take your Lexus SUV, and go away. I don't care that the Half-and-half's out. And I certainly don't care that you can't find the newspaper you're looking for at 2 IN THE AFTERNOON. I also do not care, ma'am, that you've been waiting two hours for a table on the deck. Because your reservation was for 8:30 inside, and yet you showed up at 5 and wanted the first available deck table. FOR EIGHT PEOPLE. Kindly, shut your mouth, and take your troubles elsewhere.

Sometimes I just want to scream. At people from New York.

The ones from New Jersey? There's no hope for them anyway...

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