I have a summer job. I am a hostess at a local Irish pub. I’ve already had several memorable encounters with customers, the most memorable being the drunk man who wandered in last night asking us for a fresh shirt because he had spilled wine all over himself.
I like it for the most part. I greet people with my “winning” smile, and smile even more cheerily when people are rude. True to my introvert tendencies, though, my favorite part of the job is when I get to go to the back and roll silverware.
In the early hours of the evening, the place is pretty quiet. One evening I got so mind-numbingly bored, I started making paper cranes out of the memo paper. One of my co-workers calls me “the bird lady.” Last night I started sketching on the memo paper:
The fake flowers at my workstation.
One of the chandeliers above the bar.