The Struggle Is Real

And I'm Living Proof.

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Saturdayzzzzz

Every Saturday. I work open to close which is 10:30 -8:30. It’s a long day but with the company of 7 tv’s and food, it’s not so bad. I didn’t have a guest come in the restaurant for hours… And I mean hours! I think at one point I was playing word chums on my phone with my mom and fell asleep at a table. I mean I guess it’s beats staying at home bored on house arrest right? So the owner came over to let us know that he will be taking off for the day and then proceeded to tell us about the PIG COSTUME in the closet… I shot over a look to him of excitement as if saying “chicken” to my old chihuahua Aila (if you know me, you’ll get a laugh from that) So where is this costume and how do I put it on? I walked in the restaurant and open the double doored closet in the dining room and low and behold the Angels were singing and the bright light beaming in my eyes, there it was! I was like a kid in a candy store. My anticipation to put on the high school boys locker room smelling pig head was rising. I slipped one leg in, then the next, zipped up the back, then one pig foot boot, followed by the other, the gloves and lastly, the moment I had been waiting for. As I picked up the over sized pig head and placed it over mine, I immediately transformed into this character. Don’t know what the character was exactly but I was it. I gave this pig LIFE! Carefully walking to the street since the feet were over sized and I tripped over them, I approached the road and the dancing began. If anyone knows me, they know that I have amazing dance skills that could drive someone to suicide from jealousy. Surprisingly, It didn’t attract any guests to the restaurant. Maybe because it was such a beautiful day out and who wants to be inside when it’s nice out. So I pretty much danced around just for a good laugh and a video to post on my blog. I walked back to the restaurant exposing myself to the world who the dancing pig was which really “the world” consisted of the bar patrons standing outside of the bar next door to the restaurant. They were quite surprised that I was a girl with such sweet dance moves. We finally got some customers around 5:30 thank god, so I was able to make some money for gas and to go get some amazing French toast to satisfy my cravings last night (no I am not pregnant, I’m a skinny girl trapped in a fat girls body, in other words, I like to eat, but I poop a lot). So my night ended with T coming over with a buzz after seeing the 50 shades of grey musical parody and all I got out of it was Christian Grey was a fat slob. I think that’s all she remembered. Then I kicked her out of my bed and passed out until 1pm today. And that was my Saturday…

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How can someone be SO STUPID!?

So I’m a server. I’ve been working hospitality for 10 years. And you would be surprised what kind of people I had the pleasure to meet. I had a father and son come in one night who were in the process of looking for a house to live in because they are moving from PA. So anyways. He (the father) was asking about how strict the cops are with weed smoking. So my response was “well, it is illegal…” And so he asked me if he got pulled over and had like a little nug on him, would would happen. And so my response “you would go to jail” and he was SO SHOCKED to hear such a thing! Well, idiot, weed is still illegal so having it in your possession is against the law. And I’m pretty sure it’s like that in all states but two right?? And then the majority of his other questions were asking how cops would react to different situations such as riding a bicycle after you’ve had a couple drinks or walking down the street smoking a blunt. Is this guy serious right now!? People seriously amaze me some times. Last night was the night of stupid questions. A woman asked me if our SWEET bbq sauce was spicy. And I can’t help but to be a sarcastic smart ass. So I told her that we name all of our sauces the opposite of what it really tastes like because we like to mix things up a bit. And as long as it’s said with a smile, it’s not mean, Right? Or why do guests lean in closer but talk softer when you tell them that you can’t hear them? Does anyone else have guests at their restaurant that just ask the DUMBEST questions? I remember my favorite question back when I worked in Orlando. We had two different size beer glasses. An average pint glass which is 16 ounces and a 22 ounce glass. When the guests orders a draft beer, I ask if they would like either a 16 ounce or 22 ounce. And the guests question was “how big is the 16 ounce?” Uhhhhhh, I mean…. Uhhhhh. 16 ounces? I mean how else do you answer that question? I feel bad for these type of people. I guess common sense just isn’t common anymore. The struggle is real… For sure!

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Here's a little bit about me....

Hello world of blog! I am new to this so bare with me. I have decided to start a blog after I went on maybe a 2 hour rant to my older sister N about the unbelievable events that go on in my house hold. I would say that I am half crazy and here is why. I am on community control and for those of who you don’t know what that is, it’s a fancy word for House Arrest. I was lucky enough to not have to wear the pretty anklet that tracks my every move. I was kind of looking forward to bedazzling it up. Oh well. I’m 26 years old, I live on the beach in sunny Florida with my mom T, her boyfriend K, and his 9 year old daughter E. They are pretty much my excitement of my day. I also have a younger sister C who is 17 and her “fiancé” S. They live together in their own apartment that my mom pays for. I work at a quaint little barbecue restaurant on the beach. It’s pretty chill. So you’re probably wondering why I am on community control. Long story short. I am a recovering heroin addict. It started with pills and then later went to heroin. I started using pills when I was 21. I got into some legal trouble about 2 years ago and was put on probation for 18 months. I violated my probation on my 17th month for missing 3 days of my substance abuse treatment. So I was arrested, bonded out and re-submitted to probation to await my VOP hearing. Well, being the idiot junky that I WAS and pawned a cell phone that wasn’t mine for 40 dollars and obviously violated my probation again. So I was looking at 17 months in prison but the state offered me what’s called a “downward departure” which is like a “get out of jail free card” so I was then sentenced to 24 months community control, drug court, and treatment at The Bridge which is a rehab. Soooooo. Fast forward a little bit, I went to rehab for 7 months in Polk County. Graduated that and came back home to live a normal sober life. I’ve used drugs for 5 years straight so I never had to really deal with “real life emotions and feelings” so anyways. I had this boyfriend while I was in rehab and I won’t go too in depth with that but he had made me all these promises of a future and blah blah blah and come to find out he had a girlfriend the whole time I was away and decided to tell me through a text message two days after I got home. Um, really???? So that was my first test when I got home. I am so proud of myself that I didn’t just go run out and get high to cope with the pain. He’s a douche bag anyways. And all the signs were there, I just ignored them. And apparently this girl is a whore bag too. She slept with my best friend CH’s ex boyfriend who happened to also be my ex’s boyfriends best friend. They aren’t friends anymore. So I lived with CH for a month and then I moved in with my mom. So that’s where I am now. I am 10 months sober and am loving every minute of it. I mean don’t get me wrong, I have good days and bad days, but my good days outweigh the bad ones. But let’s face it, I’m a simple girl. I wanted to start a blog to show the real life struggles that maybe some people haven’t been through or don’t know anything about. And if you do know about it, then maybe I can share some of my experience hope and strength so you know that you’re not alone. Well, it is off to the ole Smokehouse to put on a smile and charm the pants off of some people. The Struggle Is Real… And I’m Living Proof.