13.5 hrs

What a fucking shit-show!
After tossing and turning all night, afriad to be late for work I made it with two minutes to spare on only four hours of sleep. First thing's first, coffee.
If only. Instead I notice that the gate is already unlocked, "who the fuck is already here?" I groggily make my way into the restaurant only to find the middleaged HDAD riddled mess of a floor manager frantically rushing around trying to install a new phone sysetem. "Where the fuck did I put my flashlight?" he asks me, as if I could give a damn.
I arrived early to receive a delivery that didn't show up for another two hours. I decided to have a cup of that water dressed in black; no cream or sugar. That morning cigarette did feel like a tiny victory over my spinning head, racing heart and troubled existance.

Things could have been normal, until the mechanic rolls up. He was there to check out the problematic hot water heater.... after I had to google the "literature" that should have came with the "equiptment" I noticed that one of the troubleshoots was checking to see if it was set to the right elevation. Apparently I wasn't the only robot in the place that longed to be on the West Coast.

I had finally gotten one of the two phone lines to work after McGiver left the building, and the lunch rush hit. Table after table of stuck up women 'out for lunch with a girlfriend' strolled in, horrible patterned shawls and jackets alike. Everything was typical, until it was time for the entire establishment to decided they would like to settle their bills at once. 'Communication error, please call' reads both of the portable debit and credit terminals. "Oh, you've got to kidding me?" I say to my morning dream team. After having to explain to several guests who even suggested they would have to leave an IOU as payment that they would need to go to the ATM across the street in order to pay, I felt vindicated, we had survived another mechanical malfunction.

The day began to run smoothely, the remaining waitress made no fuss about having to pick up all of the tables while I ran around calling our plastic paytment providers. She didn't even seem to mind that she would be covering the floor while I was in a meeting with a liquor rep and boss lady. The meeting went as expected, a few really awesome ideas for the upcoming weeks, and a promise of more advertising materials. Just as things were calming down the horrid sound of the the bell ringing against the flung open front door signaled an incoming attack of the lesser kind. The beer rep.

Tall and wirey, a man I would find hard to trust. He attempted some smooth talk about why he, once again, couldn't pull through on a promise. Boss Lady was having none of it. No sooner had he begun his latest installment of excuses and beating around bushes was he gone.

All of this was topped off by a very interesting private birthday, a dad who decided it was ok to change his daughter (or effeminate son's) diaper on a table and the realization that we were out of co2. After the final table of campers, who, by the way, had remained under attack by harsh above lighting and mosquitoes had left, I was all but ready to drink a bottle of tequilla. I mustered the strength to climb the fourteen stairs to paradise to order an old favourite, "double jack and coke please." I sipped this forgotten security blanket of a cocktail, and said a few quick "hellos."

Eventually, I made my way to the street to hire a cab home. Thankfully, he knew the way. I decided not to see the boy tonight. Though things are going well, and we are back together, I didn't think it was a good idea to reintroduce him to tired, irritated and emotionally exhausted me. I exited the cab, climbed a few more stairs to the porch and was greeted by two intoxicated roommates right after I pushed the kety into the door.

The new bed looks comfortable, and I fear that after a day like this one, I could use a solid fourteen hours alone, pipe in hand.