Archive for Tired

Day 8: “Anonymous Heros”

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on May 1, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Today the word SEX never crossed my mind, for two reasons:  I was too damn busy and too damn tired.  Even if some hunky bad boy came up to me at this point, the last thing I’d be thinking about would be the size of Mr. Pinky in his pants… Ok, maybe not, I’m celibate, not dead.

This morning, I was up at 4:45 AM to get to a film set by 6 AM.  We worked endlessly until about 3 PM when I had to hop onto the Metro to head to job number 2, a busy bar I work at a few nights a week to ensure my bills are always paid.  On the metro, I was nodding off, crashing off of the coffee breakfast and Redbull lunch.  Thankfully, I was sitting next to the sweetest young woman named Fatima from Ghana who pretty much insisted that I take her Cinnamon Buns.  “I can’t take your food!”

“No, you must.  You look like you’re dying…”

She was right.  I looked like hell.  I took her food and hopped into the cab, already late to work.  “I needed to be at work, like, five minutes ago!”

“No Problem.”

He was weaving through traffic and red lights like a NYC cabbie and I might have feared for my life if I wasn’t falling asleep in the back.  By the time I got to work, I downed a five hour energy drink that a coworker offered me (most likely upon seeing me) and I started working, selling drinks and specials.  In the kitchen, the cooks were still laughing and lively after being there for over 15 hours and I felt like a total lazy ass loser…  What was it about their work ethic that gave them this natural high when I couldn’t down enough espressos?  Being a cook is a shit job: with minimual pay, and they’re there before the restaurant is open and leave long after everyone has left.  I’ve just left a job that most would kill for and at my second job for comfort money and I had trouble finding the motivation to plaster a smile on my face long enough to say, “Another round?”

I walked into the kitchen, and one of the cooks, Jose, whistled at me as I was dropping dirty dishes off to the dishwasher.  “Caliente!”

“I look like shit!”  I left the kitchen.  These cooks are grown ass men, well into their 40s with wife and children, trust me, I wasn’t entertaining their cat calling compliments.

When I came back into the kitchen to yell for an appetizer that had been waiting too long.  “Ohhhh, yeah- Caliente!  We like when you angry!”

I could have killed him.  “Just give me my damn food!”

“Sooo bonita.  Here you go.”

This continued… and I thought, maybe I need to find a work crush.  These cooks light up whenever one of our female staff walks into the kitchen.  Sure, they might be freaks of nature and have energy anyway, but this job would be so much easier for me if I had someone I could flirt with… Not everyday will I have special anonymous heros that will help me through my day, giving me their food on the metro, risking speeding tickets, and offering up five hour energy drinks…  Unfortunately, I need to be up tomorrow again at the ass crack of dawn to work on another film set and the search for my flirt motivator will have to wait for another day if I’m going to keep up this lifestyle.

Here’s to 358 Days-Veronica Graham, Didn’t think about sex??? Did hell freeze over?-