My own personal hell. You know, I am fairly certain that if we all had our own personal hell, the night I had would be, say, the sixth ring of hell.

I wait tables every Thursday and Friday night at this little mom and pop itallian restaurant in Fort Worth. I love the people, the owners are my buddies- and if I have to wait tables, this is the only place that I will do it.

For all of you that have paid the pentance of being a waiter, you will understand the ferocious beast that I dealt with tonight.

It is a small restaurant, only twenty tables... So I am the only server on Thursday. All in all it is usually A OK because all of the tables are never full...

Not tonight. Every seat in the house was taken. Two of the cooks called in sick (did I mention there are only three?) and so there we were- with a restaurant full of hungry and bitchy people... Me and my buddy David taking on the mass of hysteria,

My head was spinning, I was making drinks, filling drinks, making salads, tossing pizzas, running food, and all in all running my ass off.

Most of the customers were very cordial... But there are always a few, A bitchy mother and her two bratty kids who were LITERALLY climbing the walls... Throwing shit all around.... and acting like little gangsters. Good god, I hope karma bites them on the ass...

I finally made my way out of the weeds, and I look down at my white shirt- The battle wounds were ferocious, I looked like I had been shot a million times, and I was bleeding spaghetti sauce.

Fuck needing new shoes- after tonight... I need new feet. And maybe a new brain.  ¶ 12:06 AM