Two months! Did you miss me?? After being too stressed from writing about trauma, then being too stressed because I’m going through trauma (yeah, that’s right, I just made a vague reference to my personal life. Whatcha gonna do?), I decided to suck it up a bit. I mean I can’t keep coasting on search engine hits forever, you know? “Magical land of alakazem,” “stewardess fucking pilot,” and “white big butt thick thighs” (has ever a phrase descibed me better?) just aren’t enough to get me to the top.
So I decided to turn my frown upside down for a minute and write a little ode to this transitionary period in my life. Because one day, when I’m Senior Executive Editor at Really Important Publishing Co., I want to look back at this time and laugh in a way that is perhaps a bit too maniacal and over the top.
But first, the cold hard facts. That’s right everyone, your (and my) worst fears have come true. I am a waitress with a master’s degree. Serving up your morning coffee with a side of rhetoric, and a pinch of regret. But hey, there have been awesome waitresses before, right? And the cafe I work at is super cute, despite the fact that my uniform consists of a t-shirt (gross!) and JEANS (GROSSER!!). They do allow me to wear my little do-rags though, so I work it.
That’s right, red hair: an indicator of pre-transition times. Oh [nominally] happ[ier] days, how I miss you so[-so]!!
Now before I proceed, I should make it clear that I in no way look down on waitressing or waitresses. In fact, if you’ve ever had one, you’ll know that there is nothing better than a professional waitress. However, there’s also nothing worse than being a waitress when you really don’t want to be. Although, I imagine this is true of any profession. It probably also really sucks if you’re a brain surgeon but you really want to be a tap dancer. I once had a nurse who said he was really a DJ. I mean, as his patient, that was just scary.
On that note, let’s take a look at some awesome waitresses. Like Dawn from Season 1 of True Blood:
Yeah, that’s right, I watch True Blood. So what if it’s not cool? It makes me happy. I deserve to be happy. I don’t have to defend myself to you. But why Dawn, you ask? Two words: nice ass (not pictured here).
Or Shelly from Twin Peaks (maybe I could get away with wearing that hat):
Why Shelly? Because her husband beat her with a sock full of soap bars! Come on, I’m obvs a trauma junkie. I eat that shit up.
But the be all end all of cute waitressness? The one and only Sarah Connor, before she became the mother of the future leader of the free world (You cannot prevent judgment day. You can only postpone it.):
Grad school did not prepare me for this. But this whole situation is only temporary, right? RIGHT????
In other news, it’s Dollar Bill’s birthday today!! Happy 61st Dad, and get well sooner. In the meantime, I’ll post embarassing photos of you on the interwebs (left, circa 1955ish):
I know what you’re thinking, and yes, high-waisted pants DO run in my family.