Mom of the year

     Ahhh... the holidays are upon us. I love this shit. I love it when everyone has a day off at the same time so there's no excuse not to see each other, and we all eat the same gluttonous feast we've been eating for decades, we remember the fun we had in years past and we make new memories for the younger generation. No, really! There's no punch line, I really do love this shit!      This year I'm preparing to have the family over for a potluck Thanksgiving. It's a good thing too, because there hasn't been much work in the last month and the job we are on now might not pay until next month. We have no idea. The whole thing is kind of stressful because we have to fly Gage across the country to see his Dad for Xmas, and then we have to fly our new kid here with him on the way back. Things will work out, they always do. I'm surprisingly un-alarmed, actually. I must admit it does seem pointless to fly Gage back to California when he will probably only see h

     HELLO!!! Yes, I know I haven't written in over a month, and that really sucks, and I will get into the insanity of the reasons why soon enough. First though, I need to get a true story out of me, since one of my friends brought up asshole customers in retail and I was reminded of this little gem.      This particular story is one from my early strip club days, when I was a bartender. It was a fully nude club in California, which meant that there is no alcohol served there. Only soda, juice, coffee and O'Doul's, a non-alcoholic beer. That did not mean that dudes didn't come in drunk, because they usually did.      During this time I was a miserable person. My marriage was shit, my apartment was infested with roaches, I felt like an ugly, plain-Jane around all these glamorous looking hookers, and despite the fucking SILVER SUIT VEST and button down white collared shirt I was forced to wear, I was sexually harassed by old, nasty men on an hourly basis. This