I Felt Their Pain

By Jennyjinx | Published: April 16, 2009

This post was written over the course of a few days. I couldn’t decide where I was going with it and even if I wanted to post it. But here it is.

I am having a difficult day today. I saw on Twitter that another baby has died. Last week it was little Maddie Spohr, who was 17 months old. And today it’s Thalon Myers, just under 4 months old. I don’t want to link to them, because I don’t want any trackbacks to here to diminish what those families are experiencing1. Each death is a tragedy and each child was a gift. But, selfishly maybe, hearing about little Thalon brought back the pain of my own loss.

There was a link to a list of suggestions on how to approach and comfort a mother who has just experienced such a loss. The suggestions there are very helpful. If I’d have known about that list I’d have handed it out to every person that came into contact with me after Gabriel died. It seemed that everyone thought it was ok to say things like "You’re still young" and "You can always have another one".

I was so utterly angry after Gabriel’s funeral that I’m pretty sure there was nothing anyone could say that would comfort me. Most of what I heard through my fog just caused me more grief. My aunt even told me at one point "You still have that one" (meaning Lil’ Miss). I’m sure she meant well, but I still haven’t gotten over the rage I felt at hearing it. As if Gabriel was just a throw-away and I should be thankful for being able to bear children at least. Pfft.

But the absolute worst part was hearing the sounds of other children or hearing stories of other children. My child was dead and I couldn’t love him or mother him or do any of the things that other mothers could do with their living children. I didn’t want to hear about them because it just hurt so damned much. And that made me even more angry.

I was reading Heather Spohr’s account of bringing her Maddie’s ashes home and that brought back all of those memories too. Gabriel’s funeral was on Monday and on Wednesday I went to pick up his box2 and nearly lost my mind. I was bringing my son home in a box. How unfair was that? There was no new baby smells, no crying, no cuddling. Inside the box was a small, Ziplock sized bag that contained what remained of his physical body. Imagine two cups of flour. That’s about the equivalent of what was left of my son. I thought it ironic too that there was a pad lock with numbers holding the bag together3. Who was going to steal him? Did they think I was going to inhale him? After I looked inside that box, my soul left my body, I think, and I was left empty. I couldn’t breathe– literally. I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t hear anything besides my own heart exploding. I closed that box and didn’t open it again for 2 years.

When I went through the comments to both Heather and Shana (Thalon’s mom) I was reminded of what kinds of things I hated hearing while I was deep in my grief. So many people left them heartfelt condolences and didn’t mean to be hurtful, but so many of those comments would have sent me (during my grief) into a spiral.

To me the worst thing would be to be reminded that someone somewhere has a living child. For example, "I hugged my little one a little tighter today in your child’s honor" is meant to offer comfort, but is hurtful to a newly grieving mother. She can’t hug her child anymore. Her child is gone and the above comment just brought the pain of that realization to the surface.

Another one was "When my twin toddlers came running to me today…" Again, a new grieving mother can no longer experience whatever it was that those toddlers did. She lost that when she lost her child. That is agony for her. The sentiment of the comment will be realized later, but when she initially sees that her grief and pain will be compounded. It’s inevitable. I don’t think that anyone who has never lost a child can understand why being sentimental about your living child to a newly grieving mother can make things just a little bit worse. Or, if she was like me, a whole lot worse.

I knew for three months in advance that Gabriel was going to die. I had grief counseling before he was even born. I was warned that people would say things that were meant well but that would hurt me. I was supposed to be prepared. I wasn’t. I can’t imagine what it’s like for a mother to all of the sudden loss her child. For her baby to be there one minute and lost the next. I can’t imagine that, in those situations, those mothers are any better at handling stories of living children than I was.

I’m lucky in two respects (as compared to other mothers who have lost their children): I knew Gabriel was going to die and he died shortly after birth. So I was prepared and I didn’t get weeks, months or years of bonding time with him. But I still lost my mind when the mortuary came for his little body. I still lost my mind when I saw living children. I still lost my mind when I brought that box of ashes home. But I didn’t have those memories of him to torment me even more. Just my two days with him in the hospital. That didn’t diminish my pain, of course, but I didn’t have the shock and all that goes with having a living child which would, no doubt, add to the struggle for breath. I am heartbroken for Heather and Shana, but can’t offer them comfort because there is none. Not right now.

I hope that both mothers stay away from their blogs and Twitter for a while. Even when you think you’re strong and you think you understand what is being said, the pain still grips you just a little tighter when living children are mentioned. They have lost that when they lost their babies. They don’t need to be constantly reminded of their loss by well-meaning people who think all children bring comfort and joy. That’s just not so for mothers who have just lost one of their own.

Two things helped me when I was grieving.

One was to be part of a support group for grieving parents (as opposed to grieving spouses and such). Being able to talk and to listen to other people that have been where I was brought me a little peace of mind. I learned that what I was feeling was normal and that it was ok to feel all of those negative things I was feeling. I didn’t have to be polite when someone was being thoughtless. I didn’t have to journey alone.

The second one was gardening. I started by planting a tree as a living memorial for Gabriel. Then I repotted all of the plants I’d received at his funeral. They were just more living, growing memorials to my son4. Then I made flowerbeds so I could display little garden statues and plaques in his honor. I picked perennials so they would keep coming back. I took care of those plants like they were my child. I talked to them, I fed them, I weeded them. I mothered those plants. I was productive and that eased my mind tremendously.

My advice to anyone wishing to offer comfort to Heather and Shana is to just offer condolences and maybe point them to other mothers who can offer understanding. As much as you want to do so, you just can’t understand their pain unless you’ve traveled their road. There is a tremendous comfort in being heard by someone who has survived their own pain and remember what it felt like.

And please, though you mean well and are seeking to lessen their pain, don’t mention your own living children. Not now. They will only feel unfairly reminded of their own tragic loss. The wound is so fresh, the heartbreak so recent and the hole so gaping that it will not help them right now.

Update:
I just wanted to say that I didn’t intentionally ignore the fathers who have lost their children. They experience it a little differently– and sadly, are expected to be stronger. Their own grief is pushed aside as society, I think, doesn’t expect them to feel pain at the loss of their child. That’s incredibly unfair to the fathers and I in no way want to diminish their grief. I wrote this post from a mother’s perspective and shared my own feelings.

Sour Grapes has also felt the sting of loss and offers this from the comments:

The comfort for those mothers (and fathers) will come when they realise you can actually survive such a blow. Your life can go on. But that’s not something to suggest at this stage.

My advice to friends of the bereaved: don’t try to make it better, or make it less. Try to see that it’s at least as bad as your friend is making it out to be (she’s actually trying to make it easy for you). Never dismiss the sorrow, the rage, the anger, the frustration. If you can’t handle it up close, stay away and send a nice card. You’ll get your chance to be chirpy and upbeat later.

He’s right. The parents will feel guilty for causing your discomfort while they grieve. They don’t want to burden you with their own pain. I do remember 6 or 7 weeks after Gabriel’s funeral when someone said to me “You’re still crying? Isn’t it time to get over it?” I wasn’t over it. Am still not “over it”, though I’ve learned to let go. Give them time. Mommy and Daddy will need so much time. More than you can possibly understand. And, yes, realize that they are both trying to make this whole experience more easy for you by not letting loose with all of their feelings. Just because the mothers and fathers seem “ok” and “courageous” and “graceful” doesn’t necessarily mean they feel that way.

memorial to Gabriel.

Popularity: 40% [?]

Sphere: Related Content

  1. Oops. Too late. [↩]
  2. His ashes were put in a picture box instead of an urn and we put a picture of him in it. [↩]
  3. The state of Ohio requires a serial number for all cremations. [↩]
  4. I still have them all, as a matter of fact, save for the tree which was left behind when we moved. [↩]
Posted in Family ties, P.S.A., Women's Issues | Comments closed

Meta Twitter

By Jennyjinx | Published: April 10, 2009

You know, I love Twitter. I’m officially addicted. Not so much in the following of people, but in reading the streams (and tweeting, of course). So when the big name Progressive blogosphere finally discovered it, I was thrilled. I mean, the #tcot1 were getting pretty numerous and I was thinking “Damn it, the Wingers are getting ahead of us on this one.” But then finally progressive voices started filtering in2.

So, I started following a couple. I probably shouldn’t have as I should know better by now3 but I did. Then I started looking at their stats. Once again the “leaders” of the Progressive blogosphere are forming a circle jerk. They’re happily penning posts about the wonder that is Twitter (though they’ve just signed on, still they’re “experts”) and giving all kinds of useful information about the service4 and telling people how to go about using it.

Except for their circle jerk and their unbelievable refusal to recognize anyone outside of that circle. They’re not following anyone not already on the a-list and they’re certainly not acknowledging replies from the “lessers”. Same old shit, different service.

The a-list #tcot, of course, are different. They don’t mind giving the occasional shout out to the lessers. They recognize their audience and seem to appreciate it (screeching monkeys though they may be). And that’s how Twitter should be. A community wherein the leaders in the niche recognize those that have made them the leaders. Progressive a-listers still suck ass in that respect.

So, I’ve decided to not follow them. Fuck ‘em. Yeah, I’ve only got 200 followers, so I’m not too important in the scheme of things. But I’d rather follow people who tweet interesting things, funny things and interact with their twitter stream. Honestly, people who have real influence5 like Shaquille O’Neal, Demi Moore and Jimmy Fallon take time out of their busy day to interact, but Progressives can’t? Fine with me. I like the “lessers” better anyway. Way more interesting. And helpful. I don’t need to follow another link to the same story someone else already posted (and the second one from the a-lister is probably given without attribution unless it’s from a member of their circle). Pfft.

Ok, off my soapbox now. I’ve once again learned my lesson. Politics is fun– but only with people who don’t look on the “lessers” as inconvenient necessities. Pfft.

Popularity: 34% [?]

Sphere: Related Content

  1. Top Conservatives on Twitter [↩]
  2. A lot during the primary/election season, but… [↩]
  3. Blogroll Amnesty Day, anyone? [↩]
  4. Except one, who was so enthralled that she said Kevin Rose was the founder…pfft. [↩]
  5. And money [↩]
Posted in I'm Pissy, Meta, Slap upside the head | Tagged , , | Comments closed

Your Karma Hurts Us Too

By Jennyjinx | Published: April 9, 2009

Caution: Convoluted Religious Discussion Ahead.
Hover over the footnote links to see what they say without scrolling to the bottom.

I’m a believer in Karma. Not the Hindu version, though it’s similar. I say “Karma” because I have no other word for it and people mostly know to what I’m referring when I say it. Anyway, my version is more closely related to the Wiccan “Three Fold Law”. That basically says that whatever energy you put out into the universe is returned to you three times. I don’t agree with the “threefold” part of that, but it’s pretty close. And my belief in Karmic law is the very core of my spiritual beliefs. I have gotten to a point in my life where all of my major life decisions/actions are thought out based on where I sit in the universal justice system. I don’t blame anyone for anything “bad” that may have happened to them1, but there are lessons to be learned throughout the spirit’s journey2.

My philosophy is simple: Equal justice– good or bad. If you’re good to someone/something, then you will be rewarded. And that’s true in reverse. Not many people can clearly appreciate that this means, to me, pretty much all the good and bad. That the energy (if you want to call it that) balances out one way or the other. And that balance will most definitely include anyone directly in your sphere of influence3 — close family and friends, such as your spouse and children. My belief is that past life adjudications affect whose sphere you’re in during any period of time and a huge combination of different things helps decide the justice you receive (which is not necessarily doled out on a daily basis, mind you).

I can’t tell you any kind of specifics because those would vary per person and circumstance and the decisions already made during the current lifetime4. Those are the things you (as in your soul) must figure out and learn through your current journey/lesson. The beginning and causes of the justice are not known to your conscious self (current embodiment), but you’ll recognize when you need to make a life altering decision based on what your soul already knows5.

Anyway, most people don’t really appreciate my philosophy because, well, it doesn’t sit well with them when bad things happen. My mother almost blew a gasket when I told her my thoughts on my son’s death. Until she insisted that Lil’lady was him and then I blew the gasket, but that’s neither here nor there. Most people are more content to think “There’s a reason for everything6” or that “God has a plan7 “. That’s fine and that’s the reason I don’t really share my core beliefs with anyone. I won’t argue about it because I can’t be unconvinced. But I’m not blaming anyone because that’s not my place. My place is to thoroughly examine my own actions in my own life and determine if they should be adjusted and fine tuned and to accept whatever the fates will put upon me. Ah, but that’s not sitting well, is it?

Now, back to the sphere of influence8 and how your Karma can affect those around you. It’s all well and good when you’ve hit the lottery/won a trip/lived through a surgery, but what about when you’re being punished for a negative action? Of course, since most people don’t believe in this9 they don’t think about this. For instance, TheMan doesn’t believe in Karma. He doesn’t believe in the universe’s justice system and doesn’t think what he does now10 affects the rest of us negatively. He’s wrong.

My friends know what he did. His actions caused a lot of hurt and traumatized the family. That’s a lot of negative energy thrown into the winds. During that time, I worked on what I could do to better myself, keep the family together and stop the overturning of our little boat. I thought a lot about revenge and how I could make him suffer just as bad as I was. I considered things like poison ivy in the underpants, slicing of the tires, calling of the boss and tipping her off that drug use was happening11. I made lists. Then I set them aside and went on with my life.

I’d encountered Karma many times in my life. After getting smacked around about a million times, I’m pretty sure I learned my lesson where she is concerned. I knew that I wouldn’t get out from under her justice were I to follow my instincts. Sadly, I was left with only revenge fantasies. Which sort of pulled me through the darkest time. And, by the way, I recognize my own fault in the justice that was meted on me. This is, once again, part of the core of my belief system. It was my job to learn from that and repair whatever damaged I had previously caused.

At any rate, his “bad” Karma increased significantly and he began to receive the justice for that. Because it’s a very personal thing, he was struck financially12. He was given opportunity to see the error of his ways and to get back on the right side of Karma. He started to at one point. But his penance hadn’t been fully paid when he began to backslide. So, again he was served a blow to the head. I told him he had to make right. He didn’t get it.

Now his actions are once again negatively affecting us– those in his sphere of influence. He’s been laid off permanently (when before it was just a week), been denied unemployment for 2 weeks, we’ve lost our insurance and denied a job for which he was vying. He’s become dependent on me, which seriously eats at him. My income has been sustaining us and that just kills him. So, we’re at a point where he’s losing faith again and trying to find his “manhood” again. I say to him “Do something good for your community” and make plans for us to volunteer. He doesn’t want to work for free. I gather things up to give to charity. He wants to sell it. I do it anyway– for him. But it doesn’t matter, because he won’t do the good for himself.

He doesn’t get it. Most people don’t. But the universe will make right what he’s wronged. And he will eventually be forced to learn his lesson13. And I’m struggling to keep up good spirits and not allow myself to become angry, bitter and vengeful because we’ve been through too much14. I want us to do well and get over this. It’s been so very tiresome. I’m ready to move on.

Recently I had an opportunity to get a job with a local publisher. Well, not really local, but within 20 miles. I would have to drive to work every day, but would get decent pay and benefits. I missed that opportunity because TheMan was worried he wouldn’t be able to get to this new job he was hoping to get. I agreed to wait and see– even though this job would have been perfect for me and great experience toward my degree. Then his job didn’t materialize and mine went to someone else. I’m a little bit angry about that. How much sacrificing am I supposed to do here? By giving up that job, did I help repay his Karmic debt at all?

I do think I got a slight reward for my sacrifice, but that’s a more personal thing I don’t really want to get into here. I just hope my “luck” isn’t running out and that TheMan starts thinking less of himself and more of his impact on the lives around him.

Popularity: 30% [?]

Sphere: Related Content

  1. Plenty of “bad” has happened to me, by the way. [↩]
  2. Death does not equal “bad” either, by the way. It’s a natural part of the life cycle. [↩]
  3. Directly affected by your life’s events. [↩]
  4. What? You didn’t know I’m a believer in reincarnation? [↩]
  5. This requires more explaining and I’m not going there with this post. [↩]
  6. What is the reason, then? [↩]
  7. Aren’t you curious what it is? [↩]
  8. I wish I had better names for this stuff. [↩]
  9. Except when they say stuff like “Karma’s a bitch!” [↩]
  10. Or who he did, as the case may be. [↩]
  11. There was none, but the test would have had to be done, right? [↩]
  12. Finances are the most important thing to him. [↩]
  13. Another part that I’m not explaining here. [↩]
  14. Yes, including counseling. Just an FYI [↩]
Posted in Family ties, Oh, God! | Tagged , | Comments closed

Disenchanted

By Jennyjinx | Published: April 1, 2009

I’ve been actively trying to avoid politics. I’ve overdosed on it and it’s really starting to depress me. I figure I’ve got enough on my plate and seeing the same regurgitated outrage over and over again just doesn’t help any of that. So I’ve found other things to keep me entertained.

But two days ago the Obama administration announced that they would help the Big Three automakers with a “bailout” only after more concessions were made. One of those concessions was that GM CEO Rick Wagoner step down. I don’t give a flying fuck about Wagoner, because he sucks and he’s going to be taken care of no matter what happens. What I care about is that one of the other concessions was that all of the autoworkers were going to be expected to make sacrifices. Specifically I’m talking about this:

It will require unions and workers who have already made painful concessions to make even more. [...]

And so I’d like to speak directly to all those men and women who work in the auto industry or live in the countless communities that depend on it. Many of you have been going through tough times for longer than you’d care to remember. And I will not pretend the tough times are over. I cannot promise you there isn’t more pain to come.[...]

There are jobs that cannot be saved. There are plants that will not reopen. And there is little I can say that can subdue the anger or ease the frustration of all whose livelihoods hang in the balance because of failures that weren’t theirs.[...]

That is why today, I am designating a new Director of Recovery for Auto Communities and Workers to cut through red tape and ensure that the full resources of our federal government are leveraged to assist the workers, communities, and regions that rely on our auto industry.

But don’t worry:

if you buy a car from Chrysler or General Motors, you will be able to get your car serviced and repaired, just like always. Your warrantee will be safe. In fact, it will be safer than it’s ever been. Because starting today, the United States government will stand behind your warrantee [sic].[..]

Third, the IRS is today launching a campaign to alert consumers of a new tax benefit for auto purchases made between February 16th and the end of this year – if you buy a car anytime this year, you may be able to deduct the cost of any sales and excise taxes. This provision could save families hundreds of dollars and lead to as many as 100,000 new car sales.

You warranty is safe, but the people that built that car are fucked two ways from Sunday. And the people that earned their retirement money, pensions and health care in their old age? Fuck them, too. You see, the contracts are only legally binding if it’s the AIG execs who are getting the millions of dollars in bonuses from their bailout money. They’re the “smart ones” and the brains and blah blah blah. Their contracts matter. The union guys and gals who signed contracts and were due their retirement benefits? They don’t matter.

I was sick over this the other day. Disen-fucking-chanted, even. My blood boiled. There are more concessions due from the workers on the plant floor and too bad-so sad if they have contracts. They’re blue collar working class folk. They don’t have high flautin’ degrees and high-priced tiny assed condos. They work hard doing physical labor and therefore their homes, families and health don’t matter. At least that’s the message I’ve been seeing.

Don’t worry, though. They’ll finally qualify for food stamps and they can get Medicare for their kids. Thank the gods SCHIP passed, huh?

The hypocrisy here is unbelievable. Yes, I know the auto industry needed to revamp a long time ago. Blah fucking blah. I’m talking about the fact that officially nothing can be done about AIG bonus pay outs, but the retired autoworker in Florida– who lives off his pension– is going to find himself without that fucking pension, because everyone has to make concessions. Lazy bastards should have gone to school and insisted that they’re employers go green so long ago. And why the hell didn’t the dumb motherfuckers vote Democratic all these years?

These are some of the messages I’ve been seeing from the “Progressive” community. Instead of wondering why the low-man on the totem pole is getting the shaft1 and why those people have to make more concessions2 they are blaming these people for staying in these jobs, for not being smart enough to get a higher education and, OMG! getting paid a decent wage when other people– who are way smarter — aren’t making that kind of money.

This is just one example of “Progressive” empathy for the screwing the blue collar workers have to endure:

Not going along with this (1+ / 1-)

Recommended by:
AmericanRiverCanyon
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happy camper

I’m all for Unions, but 30-40 per hour in the midwest with just a high school diploma is a joke.

The average teacher in NY with 6 years of college education starts at a 50K/year salary and wont dream of owning a home until 10+ years into their career if they’re lucky (or if they have supplemental income).

The average UAW worker is making about 40 dollars an hour with no further education and pulling down around 70-80k a year.

It’s no wonder our education system is a joke, meanwhile we have to listen to the boohooing about the unions conceding oh so much. Spare me.

by PooNani on Tue Mar 31, 2009 at 11:27:28 AM EDT

Now, I’ll go on to say that most of the other comments in that thread are telling this particular person to shut the fuck up. But there are plenty of other comments that say something similar (though probably not so heavy handed and no, I’m not going to copy them all). What pissed me off is that so many “Progressives” are blaming the workers for this shit. They’re telling them to “buck up” and deal. To “retrain”. How the fuck does a 45 year-old person, who’s worked in the same plant for 20 years, retrain? And what happens to their homes and families in the meantime?

SACRIFICE!! But not if you’re working on Wall Street. Get used to a lower quality of life! But not if you’re uber-smart with numbers and can make yourself a millionaire at someone else’s expense.

These folks– and, indeed, the people that are in their sphere of influence who will also “feel the pain”– have probably lost their life savings3 and have given up many of their benefits that people who aren’t in unions seem so jealous of. They’ve taken voluntary pay cuts. They haven’t stopped working just as hard as they were working before.

And let me tell you something: Working in a fucking factory is hard goddamned work. It’s not standing around with a fucking broom waiting for someone to give you specific instructions on how to sweep it. That’s rightwing propaganda and I’m not hearing that shit. 10-12 hour days of back breaking fucking work is worth what these folks were getting. They were the lucky ones. They got decent pay for the crap they put up with, because they were union. And they deserve their benefits, their retirement and the homes they bought with their hard-earned savings. They don’t deserve to lose it while their execs– and AIG execs — get to walk away with their nice houses and pretty savings portfolios. Hypocrisy.

In Ohio we value the hard work the guys on the floor do. Maybe we should push harder for a fancy-schmancy college education4 but many people in this area (and in Michigan) are content to work with their hands and in these positions. There is nothing wrong with that. But “progressive” wisdom is that they brought this on themselves because they chose that work5 and because they just aren’t that smart. Fuck them and their contracts.

I’m not even sure if I would have been as god-awful pissed as I was (and am again) if I hadn’t seen Progressives standing behind Obama to such an extent as to tell their fellow Progressives6 to buck up and shut up. Quit whining when you’re watching your world fall out from under you? Fuck that noise.

When these folks lose their livelihood, it’s not going to just be the plants that are affected. It’s going to be the neighborhood stores and restaurants, the tax base, the entire. That unemployment and poverty is going to stretch further than just 42,000 people (or so). The few remaining local businesses are going to see a drastic decline in revenue, the cities are going to lose tax money, homes are going to go into foreclosure and that many more people are going to become dependent on government assistance. There will be no other jobs to find when this happens.

But, hey! Those of us living here in the Rust Belt will just buck up and become innovative. After we lose our incomes, our homes and our healthcare. No, we have no reason to be whining and gnashing our teeth. We have no reason to be angry. We were prosperous while stupid, dontcha know. Our potholes aren’t getting filled, our food pantries aren’t getting filled and our cost of living is going through the roof. But hey! We brought it on ourselves. Right?78

FUCK that noise.

Popularity: 42% [?]

Sphere: Related Content

  1. Wagoner is leaving with a lovely severance package– part of his contract [↩]
  2. Why didn’t Wagoner have to leave without his goddamned bonus? [↩]
  3. If they did the “smart” thing and invested [↩]
  4. Full disclosure: I’m a computer programmer in training at the local university. [↩]
  5. As if there was ever a lot of choices inside of our states. [↩]
  6. Those of us who live in the Rust Belt and who will be directly affected by these “concessions” [↩]
  7. My family is lucky for now. I have no idea what our situation will be in a few months. We’re not union. But we empathize with those that are immediately affected. [↩]
  8. Who cares about the working class as long as we can still get cheap shit from China, anyway? [↩]
Posted in I'm Pissy, P.S.A., Politics, Slap upside the head | Tagged | Comments closed

And Now My Job

By Jennyjinx | Published: March 21, 2009

I was up in the air about whether I would discuss my workplace. I didn’t know if I wanted that much about me out there. Sure I discuss my kids every so often and I’ll throw in a post about school here and there, but usually I try to remain slightly mysterious. An enigma even. But when I go to work and observe what’s happening I think to myself “Holy shitballs!1There’s a lot of material here.” And there is a ridiculous amount. If only I could put into words…

First let me start by saying that I “wait” tables, but don’t call me a “waitress”. I’m a server. A cheap prostitute, if you will. I make nice with strangers for a few extra dollars in my pocket. Previous to Lil’lady that was my profession for about 13 years. Now I’m back at it. It’s actually what I’m good at and what I know how to do. The restaurant where I work is a decent place, but not because of the customers. They pretty much suck ass. My employer and his management staff are just top-notch people. They do a lot for our community in the way of giving back and treat most of the employees2 with the utmost dignity and respect. I actually like working there.

So, anyway, I’ve decided to regale you all with tales from behind-the-scenes and on the floor. People annoy the shit out of me and since I can’t tell them to shove it, I’ll just tell the stories. It’ll be downright therapeutic for me (and maybe make you wonder about your favorite eating establishment– which will make me laugh and giggle). You might think that this can’t be the least bit interesting considering my over-the-top rants about politics (which are fewer now because I recently overdosed on the subject and just can’t feel the passion right now), but you’ll soon come ’round to my way of thinking.

In our restaurant, which is pretty big, we have tables and booths. The difference between the two is the chairs at tables can be adjusted and booths are bolted to the floor. Most of our booths seat 4 + people (up to 8), but we do have a few 2 tops3. The 2 tops are incredibly small and really don’t hold much and the booths aren’t very wide. They’re good for single diners or a couple of kids eating just appetizers. Still, our hostesses will seat anyone there and then we, the servers, have to make sure they don’t have one thing sitting on their table that they’re not using4.

So, one day I’m in a section full of these 2top booths. The hostess seats me and I go greet my sorry couple. The lady was very large. She was literally stuffed into this booth– her butt was hanging off the edge of her seat and her boobs were sitting on to of the table. She didn’t look the slightest bit comfortable. She wasn’t very pleasant when I greeted them.

She grunted her order to me without so much as looking in my direction. When she ordered her steak I said “Medium is hot pink in the center, is that ok?” She whipped her head around and glared at me.

“Medium, medium, MEDIUM“, she growled, her face turning red (I’m not really sure if she could even breathe in that booth). It’s my job to help prevent recooks and one way I do that is to make sure everyone knows what at what temperature they’re ordering their meat. I explained that to her. She turned her head and looked away– refusing to speak to me further.

She was like that throughout her meal. When she wanted more tea, she wiggled her glass. When she wanted more bread, she practically threw the basket at me. Her husband was no help either. He just shrugged his shoulders at me and went about eating.

Then I saw her talking to a manager. What the hell was she going on about? I did everything right, made sure she was as comfortable as I could possibly make her without greasing her down with butter and somehow managed to not dump a gallon of tea on her head. I walked up to the table and asked what the problem was.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she hissed. So, I hunted down my manager to see what she was going on about.

“She’s pissed because she got sat at that booth,” he told me. “She doesn’t think that should even be allowed in the restaurant and she’s pissed because no one asked her if she wanted a table. She told me she couldn’t even enjoy her meal because she can’t even move in that booth.”

“Really? Why the hell didn’t she ask for a bigger table? What the fuck? She was pissy with me the whole time and it’s not even my fault.” I was almost mad. But then I laughed. I’m pretty sure if my boobs were sitting on top of the table and my ass was hanging over the side of my seat I would ask to be put somewhere else. Apparently, this woman wanted a psychic seater5 who would just assume she wouldn’t be offended if she was offered a bigger seat. We did have a good laugh at her pride and stupidity, though. And, no, she didn’t get a free meal.

So, because this woman was too proud to ask for something else when she eyeballed the table, she sat for a good hour stuffed into her seat, unable to enjoy her meal, and undoubtedly ended up some indigestion when she went home. And I got to be abused for an hour and ended up with a shitty tip.

Moral of the story: If you can’t fit in the table your hostess initially takes you to, ask for something else. You know if your ass and boobs will fit into that space. If you find yourself unable to breathe and properly digest your food, ask for a bigger table. Save yourself the humiliation of being stuffed in there to begin with. Otherwise you will be miserable and we will laugh at your expense (the price of pride and all that).

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  3. Holds only two people. [↩]
  4. Prebussing is a must! [↩]
  5. Our seaters aren’t allowed to ask overweight guests if they’d like a bigger table because it might offend the guest. They are to assume they want to be treated like most thin people in their seating. [↩]
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