Turn the light off when you're done.

I recently spouted while training some new buss girls that for me it's like a switch, when I'm on the floor it's on and when I walk in the back, off.  I think the acknowledgment of this gift has rendered it useless.  I've been plagued by a string of complaints varying from the somewhat reasonable to the inexplicable insane. 

It always happens like that.  If you get one complaint, you get three.  The last was while I was flambeing some cherries for some regulars and friends, granted the second flame did not go as I would have liked but whatever, the show must go on, next thing I know my friend, whom I happen to be serving with comes to tell me that her table professed to be a flambe expert and felt I had botched the job tremendously.  Granted, it wasn't perfect but her complaint was that we had open bottles on the cart, well I challenge any of you to pour liquor whilst the lid is on, secondly that my first flame was without the cherries blah blah and on and on.  Doesn't really matter the point is I have somehow jinxed myself and as a result am suffering from a section overrun with assholes.  What to do?  Exorcism, incense, deodorant, shower...what do you people want from me, fuck.

I only mention this as we are heading into the hell we in the service industry know as Valentine's weekend.  The pressure is on to make every woman in a ten mile radius feel special while simultaneously making their stupid ass dates look important in the hopes they might get their lame, take their wife out for dinner cause I can't think of anything else to do, asses layed. 

But truly, I love my job.  No really I do, just not the stupid people.  Okay fine, that's just mean but... work with me people.