Sunday, January 08, 2006

the switch (or crappiest and most unorganized blog ever, sorry guys)

I’m sitting in Starbucks during a three-hour intermission between my two jobs. Everyone leaves the office by 6 on Friday. And given that the agency and the club are within a block of each other, (how that happened, I don’t know) I’m forced to sit here in dread of the next 8 hours on the clock.

This is when I must make the switch.

I’m not the first person with two jobs. I think Jamaica has already pioneered that frontier. And since advertising entrance salaries aren’t exactly forgiving, I’m not the first copywriter who was forced to find outside employment. But how many copywriter/ cocktail waitresses are there? I’m sure there’s lots of bartender/copywriters. And perhaps a few restaurant/cws as well. But copywriter/cocktail waitress? It’s like the Skittles’s sheepboy of employment.

In my observation, the smartest ones in the service industry tend to gravitate towards bartending. There are plenty of idiots behind the bar, sure. But the ones in aspiration for callings higher than a Grey Goose martini, seem to earn their interim income flipping bottles. Then you have your waiters. Respect them. They know more about wine than you do. A lot of them are just between jobs. And some just can’t figure out what the fuck they wanna do with their lives. And I don’t think any of us can judge a person for that.

But then you have the cocktail waitresses. A totally different deluded breed that manages to squeeze $80,000 + a year from society, while remaining completely ignorant to anything outside the world of expensive jeans, manicures, and facials. (You are free to interpret facial either way you like.)

I once walked in on a conversation between two of my coworkers who were discussing the absence of high tippers in the past 5 years.

“I used to walk out the club with like $2000 maybe $2500 in my pocket. But, you know, it’s ain’t like that no more.”

“Prob’ly cause of the recession.” I offered.

They stared at me like I had just proudly announced a case of the crabs.

I made the mistake of trying to explain, “You know, 9/11, the .com burst, decline in consumer confidence…”

It was like trying to teach Neitzsche to eight year-old boys. They’d stare at you for a second, and then go back to giggling at each others’ farts.

Yet, I’m one of these girls.

Yeah, yeah…. I’m on my way to other things, my day will come…bla, bah. I’m sure I’ll be the fucking president come February. But for two nights a week I’ve got to play the roll. Because customers don’t want to deal with anything unexpected. They want the same vodka tonic they drank last week. They dance to the same Kanye West song that was playing on the radio while they looked for a parking spot. They don’t want to be confronted with a sarcastic bitter half writer wannabe who’s trying to prove she’s more than this. So, I’ve got to play the role. I’ve got to make the switch. But luckily I’ve got abundant access to the remedy.

I take a shot. It doesn’t do much. I take a second. Score some champagne. That Shakira song sounds a little better now. More Patron? Sure. You sell insurance? Really? Oh my god! My friend used to do that! By the way, that’ll be $675. Eight-fifty, with gratuity.

Enough champagne and I forget about everything. The music is great now. My vocabulary plummets. (Yet my Spanish is strangely more fluent.) If only my Monday morning Starbucks could provide a champagne-like transition back.

On the morning after my two job collision, sore headed, I’ll wake up to another rainy New York Saturday. In between the time I regain consciousness and stumble to the bathroom, I’ll resume my incessant, narcissistic, fruitless pondering. Who the fuck am I? Stupid waitress or half ass copywriter? Who the hell are any of us? Who the hell are you? And why are you reading my blog?


Jaime Schwarz said...

What a philosophical way to end your blog. I don't know who I am, but I know who you are... A freelance junior copywriter who's pulling in G upon G (not to mention your boy G) and because she's a Gemini, she can switch to ditz in two shakes of a martini cask. (And I don't even believe in that Zodiac shit). Keep on complaining though Concha cause it's very entertaining (and well written of course).

And if starbucks can come up with a coffee liquor, I don't think it'll be too long before they start serving some hair of the dog.

roofie ravager said...

i, for one, am pretty lame. i remain anonymous, yet write for all your other readers and yourself to see. my anonymity is just as anonymous as a fart in the theater.

no. didn't make sense.

concha said...

jaime, i think that was your best comment ever. now channel that skill into a new blog, will ya?

concha said...

and by the way, mr. anonymous, i know exactly who you are.

Jaime Schwarz said...

Thanks for the compliment concha, but you sound too much like a CD now. Can you at least wait until your my boss to do that?

roofie ravager said...

you don't know me. and i'm so insecure i'd rather stay unknown. living in the midwest does that to you.

concha said...

i think you're lying, but whatever. feel free to comment as much as you want.

roofie ravager said...

i ended up here looking for some inspiration for a paper for my JRN 429 class at MSU.

i could write my full name and all, but i don't think mcconeghy is as glamorous as prozac popper or roofie guy.

oh well, i can leave....

concha said...

you don't know me...but you keep coming back...weird....but like i said, feel free to comment and come back.

meth medic said...

well, maybe one day we will meet and i will be able to give you props is person. 'til then, i'll stay off the radar if you like.

Courious Grown Kid said...

Hello Concha!

>Who the fuck am I?

Well, I am not in the state of purse to be able to pay $850 for a champagne and a shot and I am not selling insurance, which would maybe entitle me to look for your spot (nightclub) in ZeBigTown. So the introduction part may be on your side... ;-)
From what I can see, you are at least a very sensitive, thinking, excellent observing and assumed good looking lady in strange circumstances...

> Stupid waitress or half ass copywriter?

I personally think, that being a waitress, you are doing one of these jobs, that some uf us have: Being in a spot, where we feel completely strange, but have to be there for the tinkleling coins in our pockets... But we feel to either deserve or should be heading for better...If we only had the chance to be seen and heard in the world...

Regarding the writing thing: I always enjoy very much reading your blog. Wether you might be appreciating that or not may be judged by yourself

>Who the hell are any of us?
>Who the hell are you?


But that does not tell all...
Maybe you ask me in personal, if you are interested... :-)

> And why are you reading my blog?

1.) I am curious.
2.) I like to get to now other people in the world...
3.) Your blog is very insprirational
4.) I like the way you write
5.) The nightclub-world of rich dumbassed nightclub visitors viewed from the point of a "victim" (is this the right word for it?) and its environment was always fascinating for me. Not that I want to become a rich dumbass (maybe rich, but not the other thing...) but I always had a faible for the people working in those spots. I find them more authentic than the rest of the world... Maybe it is because of the amount of low-level behavior of the human beings they have to endure...
6.) Your blog is very personal

P.S. Thanx for visting AND commenting my blog... I did already pass your blog to my friends :-)

melvin said...

wow...mega comments.

you are not one of them. you are just acting for 2 nights a week to make some serious dough...its no biggie. at least it keeps life interesting...which is more than i can roofie ravager said the mid-west does that to you.

Anonymous said...

Your description of waiters:"A lot of them are just between jobs. And some just can’t figure out what the fuck they wanna do with their lives.": pretty much nails why most of them suck at their jobs. I'm not saying you're bad at what you do, unlike everybody else here I don't know you, but when you have an entire profession that's not committed to the job in the smallest way, well, I'll just say that I don't expect much from most servers and I'm seldom disappointed.

Don't assume I'm a bad tipper. I'm not. You'll get yours and the quality of service plays absolutely no role unless it's really bad. Funny how people used to say TIP stood for to insure promptness (wouldn't it be ensure?)I look at it more like "why tip" spelled backwards is pity.

bitemycookie said...

fucking jesus concha. that is some seriously brilliant shit. i am torn between offering to try to help you find a job and wish you don't find one so you'll just stay angry and funny here. i am serious about trying to help you find a job, btw. email me. i must know somebody who can help you.