Paradise Lost

Might as well just be honest here.

I got the boot.

Canned, fired, whatever you want to call it, it happened to me.

Picture it. I'm having a sunny gorgeous Tuesday afternoon off, when all of a sudden, I get the text of doom on my phone. "Katherine, could you please come in and see me today before 5:30 or tomorrow before 9:30 pm." It was from my manager. Needless to say, it didn't sound good. If it was about a clash in the schedule, a simple phone call could have cleared it up. But going in? That had trouble written all over it.

To cut a long story short, after only working for 8 days, it was decided that I did not collect enough glasses on my downtime, and so, I had to be tossed aside for the more eager cup-collecters of the Irish fare.

That's ok. I went out drinking right after getting fired, and then I showed up for my other job at 6:30 pm. So now I'm working at the Indian restaurant that Laura works at and I'm also working at a hotel in the city at the front desk, checking people in and out. Fairly easy, more hours, more money, it's all good!

So maybe I'm not cut out for bartending.

But for 2 glorious weeks, I was a bartender.

And I poured a damn good beer.