Summer has officially been over for a week. The last time I wrote a blog was in anticipation of track season and I didn't blog inbetween because my life was such a whirlwind. Now I find myself at the end of the meet, the horses have been shipped off to Belmont or back to Kentucky, Siro's is closed and the streets of Saratoga just aren't bustling like they were a few weeks ago. I realized I was having a hard time adjusting to "normal life" when I cried after my last shift at Siro's. I tried to describe it to a friend as being a six week adrenaline rush and then you just crash. That is exactly the problem as well as the magic of track season, it is not real life. Track season is like a fantasy land, a reality TV show, a two month escape from the real world and coming back down to earth is not always fun. I feel like it's hard to understand unless you live it day in and day out.
I suppose with each day I will gradually adjust to living life at a normal pace again. I have to be honest though, it was nice to be in fast forward for a little while and I already can't wait for next summer.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
It's the most wonderful time of the year...has been playing in my head like a broken record. Not because of anything to do with Christmas, but because Opening Day of the track was last Friday and the title of this song resonates with how I feel about July and August in Saratoga Springs, NY.
Yes, I get more excited about track season than I do about Christmas...or my birthday. The town is temporarily filled with outrageous characters and interacting with them via my cocktail waitressing job is always a treat. Here's a little recap of track season highlights from last summer:
Yes, I get more excited about track season than I do about Christmas...or my birthday. The town is temporarily filled with outrageous characters and interacting with them via my cocktail waitressing job is always a treat. Here's a little recap of track season highlights from last summer:
- Torrential downpour on Opening Day 2009, good thing our cocktail shirts aren't white
- Crashing a wedding at Saratoga National with jockey Robby Albarado
- Hustling drinks to the Gotti family, Bobby Flay, Kevin Dillon and some other characters
- Researching whether blondes really do have more fun. They don't.
- Almost getting kicked by a horse in the paddock
- Propositioned by a customer to have a threesome with him and his hooker for $1,000. Obviously I declined. I'm worth way more than a grand.
- Owner of the Baltimore Orioles taking the Siro's girls out for a fancy schmancy dinner at Dine - (great food by the way).
- Meeting my super hot Ranger who is coming back this summer :0
- Officially becoming part of the Siro's family
Track Season 2010 is already off to a great start. Of course it rained Opening Day again but it wouldn't be Opening Day in Saratoga without a little rain. I wish time would just stand still for the next six weeks...it really is the most wonderful time of the year.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
3 Guys in a Clown Car
I've spent the last 5 weeks making day trips to Yonkers. Not by choice, but it needed to be done and staying overnight would just be too easy. I had never been to Yonkers before, but after this experience I feel like I know the area pretty well...and the residents.
My visits to Yonkers included going door to door to specific residences and asking for signatures from specific people. Sometimes I was walking through rich neighborhoods with well manicured lawns and Range Rovers in the driveway and other times I was in sketchy apartment buildings with socially inept/Jeffrey Dahmer types shutting the door in my face. Either way, it was always an adventure.
On my last and final trip to Yonkers, I find myself on the border of Mount Pleasant and Pleasantville. I'm making my rounds and approach a house on Old Kensico Road. I start to cut through the front lawn and notice there's a bright red clown car backing out of the driveway. I stop in the grass and wave to the car. Three guys look at me, each with a different expression. I explain my purpose for being on their property and try to win them over.
The guy who I actually need to sign agrees to provide his signature if I give his friend, the driver of the clown car, my phone number. "I don't live around here" I stammer, I live in Saratoga Springs. "Oh I go up there for the races every summer!" the driver answers back excitedly. Shit. The other two guys are egging me on, one saying, "Come on, this is Brad Pitt's brother, give him your number." Ha, nice. Although I take a second look at the driver and he does resemble Brad Pitt, a mix of Brad Pitt and Kevin Bacon...hmmm he is kind of cute. I decide to take one for the team and that we really need this signature, so I give the Brad Pitt look-a-like my private work extension, as if giving my work number is any safer than giving my cell. Either way, I did whatever it took to get the signature I needed, RT would be so proud (RT will be explained in another blog).
The next morning I have a voicemail at work. It goes a little something like this:
"You know who this is? It's the guy in the bright red car that forced you to give him your phone number. Remember me? Give me a call, I wasn't kidding, you're pretty cute. If you come down here on biz once in a while we should definitely hook it up, get it together, I can show you around, take you to eat, I'm harmless."
The fact that he said "I'm harmless" and that I don't even know his name causes me to raise an eyebrow but I was a little intrigued. I decided it was OK to text him to find out more information. I establish his name is Andrew and he asks to hang out the next time I'm in Yonkers. I say I don't know when I'll be traveling again, to which he responds:
"Check it out, will be fun and I usually don't bite! Pretty cool dog too. Talk to you tomorrow, pack like you're staying so you can if you want. If you're not alone say I'm your cousin. xoxo"
I can't help but laugh. Who is this guy? xoxo? I reply with the following:
me: Wow, you're kinda wild and creepy
Andrew: Not so much, and you're republican
me: How do you know I'm republican?
Andrew: The same way you know I'm not a killer and just might take me up on my offer for tomorrow night. I just can tell. Turns me on a bit.
Wow. I'm speechless. But at least I can rest assured I'm done traveling and won't be bumping into this guy anytime soon, unless he really does come up to Saratoga for the races.
My visits to Yonkers included going door to door to specific residences and asking for signatures from specific people. Sometimes I was walking through rich neighborhoods with well manicured lawns and Range Rovers in the driveway and other times I was in sketchy apartment buildings with socially inept/Jeffrey Dahmer types shutting the door in my face. Either way, it was always an adventure.
On my last and final trip to Yonkers, I find myself on the border of Mount Pleasant and Pleasantville. I'm making my rounds and approach a house on Old Kensico Road. I start to cut through the front lawn and notice there's a bright red clown car backing out of the driveway. I stop in the grass and wave to the car. Three guys look at me, each with a different expression. I explain my purpose for being on their property and try to win them over.
The guy who I actually need to sign agrees to provide his signature if I give his friend, the driver of the clown car, my phone number. "I don't live around here" I stammer, I live in Saratoga Springs. "Oh I go up there for the races every summer!" the driver answers back excitedly. Shit. The other two guys are egging me on, one saying, "Come on, this is Brad Pitt's brother, give him your number." Ha, nice. Although I take a second look at the driver and he does resemble Brad Pitt, a mix of Brad Pitt and Kevin Bacon...hmmm he is kind of cute. I decide to take one for the team and that we really need this signature, so I give the Brad Pitt look-a-like my private work extension, as if giving my work number is any safer than giving my cell. Either way, I did whatever it took to get the signature I needed, RT would be so proud (RT will be explained in another blog).
The next morning I have a voicemail at work. It goes a little something like this:
"You know who this is? It's the guy in the bright red car that forced you to give him your phone number. Remember me? Give me a call, I wasn't kidding, you're pretty cute. If you come down here on biz once in a while we should definitely hook it up, get it together, I can show you around, take you to eat, I'm harmless."
The fact that he said "I'm harmless" and that I don't even know his name causes me to raise an eyebrow but I was a little intrigued. I decided it was OK to text him to find out more information. I establish his name is Andrew and he asks to hang out the next time I'm in Yonkers. I say I don't know when I'll be traveling again, to which he responds:
"Check it out, will be fun and I usually don't bite! Pretty cool dog too. Talk to you tomorrow, pack like you're staying so you can if you want. If you're not alone say I'm your cousin. xoxo"
I can't help but laugh. Who is this guy? xoxo? I reply with the following:
me: Wow, you're kinda wild and creepy
Andrew: Not so much, and you're republican
me: How do you know I'm republican?
Andrew: The same way you know I'm not a killer and just might take me up on my offer for tomorrow night. I just can tell. Turns me on a bit.
Wow. I'm speechless. But at least I can rest assured I'm done traveling and won't be bumping into this guy anytime soon, unless he really does come up to Saratoga for the races.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
How Things Change
My freshman year of college, there was this guy who lived on the first floor of my dorm. Italian, muscular, dark, and he played the guitar and would sing John Mayer songs. Every girl thought he was gorgeous, or at least some type of prize. I remember my roommate arguing with the girl who lived across the hall over who had claim to him. They both liked him and saw the other as competition. Little did they know I was actually hooking up with him at the time, but I let them duke it out over the Hot Sophomore and stayed out of their drama. To this day, neither girl knows that I ever hooked up with him, unless they discovered this blog I guess.
So Hot Sophomore and I had a few fun times together. We were friends and had a brief, end of semester romance that fizzled as soon as we left for the summer. He then spent the next year studying abroad in Italy and we lost touch.
Interestingly, six years later, Hot Sophomore and I live in the same town, less than a mile from each other. We started to hang out again and rekindle our friendship. It was nice to have a familiar face in a new location; however, I could tell Hot Sophomore wanted to rekindle more than just being friends. He would make jokes about when we hooked up in college, or offer to clean my bathroom in exchange for me cooking him dinner in my underwear. It all seemed silly until I became aware that he was somewhat serious. I thought about it, and realized that not only do I not want to be more than friends, but that I am completely UN attracted to him now. The hot, muscular, guitar playing heartthrob from college no longer exists. In fact, not only do I find him completely unattractive physically, but his personality really annoys me too.
Everything he does annoys me. He invited me over for dinner on a Tuesday night. I said I would arrive at 7:30 and asked what I could bring to contribute. He said nothing, had set the menu and told me to just bring my appetite. I arrived fashionably late at 7:45 and he had not even started cooking yet. I was instantly annoyed. He gradually started to cook but was sidetracked because he was watching American Idol, a show I do not follow nor can I stand. I asked if there's anything I can do to help, he said no so I sit on his couch fuming. At 8:15 I decided to say something and mentioned that it was pretty late to be eating dinner, I couldn't stay long and needed to get up early for work the next morning. He sensed the tension in my voice and told me to "chill the fuck out" and that the dinner was meant to be relaxing, not to cause stress. I don't quite see how agreeing to a 7:30 dinner and then serving it over an hour later than planned is relaxing, but maybe I'm just uptight. Plus I had just worked out and was starving!
We finished eating around 9pm (I wolfed everything down), I washed the dishes as a "thank you" to him for cooking and said that I had to get going. Only I could not leave until he played/sang a Jason Mraz song he's been working on. I sat through it, smiled, said it sounded good, and realized that his musical abilities no longer intrigued me like they did when I was 18. In fact, I couldn't wait to get away from him. I thanked him again and walked out the front door. He stopped me on the porch and asked, "Do you think cooking a meal like this turns girls on?" I fought to hold in my laughter. "Um....a guy who can cook is definitely a plus...." I trailed off.
On my walk home I couldn't help but ask myself "wtf were you thinking freshman year?" but I suppose this is all part of growing up.
So Hot Sophomore and I had a few fun times together. We were friends and had a brief, end of semester romance that fizzled as soon as we left for the summer. He then spent the next year studying abroad in Italy and we lost touch.
Interestingly, six years later, Hot Sophomore and I live in the same town, less than a mile from each other. We started to hang out again and rekindle our friendship. It was nice to have a familiar face in a new location; however, I could tell Hot Sophomore wanted to rekindle more than just being friends. He would make jokes about when we hooked up in college, or offer to clean my bathroom in exchange for me cooking him dinner in my underwear. It all seemed silly until I became aware that he was somewhat serious. I thought about it, and realized that not only do I not want to be more than friends, but that I am completely UN attracted to him now. The hot, muscular, guitar playing heartthrob from college no longer exists. In fact, not only do I find him completely unattractive physically, but his personality really annoys me too.
Everything he does annoys me. He invited me over for dinner on a Tuesday night. I said I would arrive at 7:30 and asked what I could bring to contribute. He said nothing, had set the menu and told me to just bring my appetite. I arrived fashionably late at 7:45 and he had not even started cooking yet. I was instantly annoyed. He gradually started to cook but was sidetracked because he was watching American Idol, a show I do not follow nor can I stand. I asked if there's anything I can do to help, he said no so I sit on his couch fuming. At 8:15 I decided to say something and mentioned that it was pretty late to be eating dinner, I couldn't stay long and needed to get up early for work the next morning. He sensed the tension in my voice and told me to "chill the fuck out" and that the dinner was meant to be relaxing, not to cause stress. I don't quite see how agreeing to a 7:30 dinner and then serving it over an hour later than planned is relaxing, but maybe I'm just uptight. Plus I had just worked out and was starving!
We finished eating around 9pm (I wolfed everything down), I washed the dishes as a "thank you" to him for cooking and said that I had to get going. Only I could not leave until he played/sang a Jason Mraz song he's been working on. I sat through it, smiled, said it sounded good, and realized that his musical abilities no longer intrigued me like they did when I was 18. In fact, I couldn't wait to get away from him. I thanked him again and walked out the front door. He stopped me on the porch and asked, "Do you think cooking a meal like this turns girls on?" I fought to hold in my laughter. "Um....a guy who can cook is definitely a plus...." I trailed off.
On my walk home I couldn't help but ask myself "wtf were you thinking freshman year?" but I suppose this is all part of growing up.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Pitas and Puke
I normally pack my lunch for work but since I have no groceries other than granola bars and a frozen soy cheese pizza, I decided yesterday was a buy lunch day. One of the neat things about where I work is in the spring and summer all of these food vendor carts park outside my building during lunch hours. I asked Diva if she wanted to venture out to the carts and purchase lunch with me...she did, and it was a lunch date.
Diva wanted to go to the My Big Fat Greek Lunch cart, which I was not opposed to because I like Greek food and my boss is Greek. How fitting. We found a spot in the sun and had a nice little picnic of gyros, pitas and grape leaves. A nice little picnic until Lush came along.
Diva was waving to someone and I look up to see a girl walking across the grass toward us. At first glance, I notice she has huge boobs. Second glance I notice her mouth is crooked. Third glance my jaw drops because she completely lays down in front of us exclaiming, "I'm so hungover, I think I really might puke." Um...OK?
Lush sits up, let's out a huge burp, then lays back down and proceeds to throw up in the grass right in front of Diva and I. I am appalled and absolutely disgusted. Disgusted because I just ate and appalled that this girl had the audacity to throw up 2 feet away from me. I understand that people come to work hungover, but that is why bathrooms exist...or garbage cans. I decided then and there I can never take this girl seriously, she would get no sympathy from me and I would be sure to embarrass her in any future encounters. Diva on the other hand was laughing and not really phased by the ordeal, or if she was she hid it well.
The situation then turned even more awkward because Lush decided to sit in the grass, next to her puke, and chat with Diva about how the office intern complains her tasks are boring. Lush went on a high and mighty rant about how the intern shouldn't complain, she should just be pleasant and get the job done. I am thinking to myself: you just vomited on your lunch break, you probably shouldn't be giving anyone advice on office etiquette.
Lush did apologize and tried to redeem herself with me by saying "this poor girl must think I'm crazy" to which I just stared back at her blankly. So Lush and Diva are chatting it up, inches from Lush's pile of vomit, and I find myself not really knowing how to react. I want to bail and get away from this sloppy mess, but then again it's a sunny day, I'm in no hurry to go back inside and I was there first. I start playing with my phone...Diva says something about being in a good mood...I text her, "I was in a great mood until this bitch just puked in front of me." She reads the text, frowns at me and puts her phone away. I then text my bff in Manhattan what happened. She replies, "Eww it's like call in sick or learn how to handle yourself." So true. That was the affirmation I needed to continue to be mean to this girl. I'm not faulting Lush for being hungover in the workplace and needing to puke, we've all been there. I'm faulting Lush for being completely classless, foul and immature.
Diva says I'm being hard on Lush because I've been out of college longer and removed from this type of behavior. I think I'm being insensitive because even when I was 22, hungover out of my mind and suffering at work, I knew better than to be further than a quick sprint from the nearest bathroom. More importantly, I had enough sense not to subject anyone else at work to my hungover condition. So for Lush's sake, I hope she does learn how to handle herself when she decides to drink during the week, or starts using some of her sick days.
Diva wanted to go to the My Big Fat Greek Lunch cart, which I was not opposed to because I like Greek food and my boss is Greek. How fitting. We found a spot in the sun and had a nice little picnic of gyros, pitas and grape leaves. A nice little picnic until Lush came along.
Diva was waving to someone and I look up to see a girl walking across the grass toward us. At first glance, I notice she has huge boobs. Second glance I notice her mouth is crooked. Third glance my jaw drops because she completely lays down in front of us exclaiming, "I'm so hungover, I think I really might puke." Um...OK?
Lush sits up, let's out a huge burp, then lays back down and proceeds to throw up in the grass right in front of Diva and I. I am appalled and absolutely disgusted. Disgusted because I just ate and appalled that this girl had the audacity to throw up 2 feet away from me. I understand that people come to work hungover, but that is why bathrooms exist...or garbage cans. I decided then and there I can never take this girl seriously, she would get no sympathy from me and I would be sure to embarrass her in any future encounters. Diva on the other hand was laughing and not really phased by the ordeal, or if she was she hid it well.
The situation then turned even more awkward because Lush decided to sit in the grass, next to her puke, and chat with Diva about how the office intern complains her tasks are boring. Lush went on a high and mighty rant about how the intern shouldn't complain, she should just be pleasant and get the job done. I am thinking to myself: you just vomited on your lunch break, you probably shouldn't be giving anyone advice on office etiquette.
Lush did apologize and tried to redeem herself with me by saying "this poor girl must think I'm crazy" to which I just stared back at her blankly. So Lush and Diva are chatting it up, inches from Lush's pile of vomit, and I find myself not really knowing how to react. I want to bail and get away from this sloppy mess, but then again it's a sunny day, I'm in no hurry to go back inside and I was there first. I start playing with my phone...Diva says something about being in a good mood...I text her, "I was in a great mood until this bitch just puked in front of me." She reads the text, frowns at me and puts her phone away. I then text my bff in Manhattan what happened. She replies, "Eww it's like call in sick or learn how to handle yourself." So true. That was the affirmation I needed to continue to be mean to this girl. I'm not faulting Lush for being hungover in the workplace and needing to puke, we've all been there. I'm faulting Lush for being completely classless, foul and immature.
Diva says I'm being hard on Lush because I've been out of college longer and removed from this type of behavior. I think I'm being insensitive because even when I was 22, hungover out of my mind and suffering at work, I knew better than to be further than a quick sprint from the nearest bathroom. More importantly, I had enough sense not to subject anyone else at work to my hungover condition. So for Lush's sake, I hope she does learn how to handle herself when she decides to drink during the week, or starts using some of her sick days.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Gal Friday
8:45AM today I'm on the phone with my friend/colleague Diva who is bugging out because she forgot to book her boss his hotel room. I can relate to the "sinking feeling" she described because our bosses are pretty important dudes and part of our job description is catering to their needs. She and I get along so well because we truly understand each other's stresses from this job, the crazies we have to deal with and the greater purpose we're all working toward in 6 months. Also, because Cancer and Taurus personalities go well together.
So while I can understand why Diva is distraught over her mistake, I am also somewhat annoyed with her higher ups and defensive of her error. I call her Diva but she should be called Gal Friday because she really is a "Gal Friday", doing a variety of jobs that would normally be spread out amongst three people. She is a hard worker and she manages/runs her office pretty well, all while being underpaid. I tell her to own the mistake and apologize, but stick up for herself and mention that she's being pulled in many different directions. She refuses and says she's not going to hint that she has too much on her plate.
I understand her reluctance, and agree that in certain situations you do just need to put your head down and your tail between your legs, but I also think at times that can give people in power a sense that they can walk all over you, or in Diva's case, take out their frustrations on you. I have offered to give one of Diva's higher ups with bipolar tendencies a piece of my mind on her behalf. She declined my offer and I was kidding....partially. I just don't agree with "punching bag" as part of her job description.
It turns out, Diva's forgetfulness reaped praise from the head honcho because he wasn't totally sure if he was staying overnight or heading home...that, and there were available hotel rooms for walk-ins. He actually referred to Diva not booking his room as "thoughtful" hahaha. I think he meant thoughtless? I'm just glad it worked out in her favor because then she's in a good mood on g-chat.
So while I can understand why Diva is distraught over her mistake, I am also somewhat annoyed with her higher ups and defensive of her error. I call her Diva but she should be called Gal Friday because she really is a "Gal Friday", doing a variety of jobs that would normally be spread out amongst three people. She is a hard worker and she manages/runs her office pretty well, all while being underpaid. I tell her to own the mistake and apologize, but stick up for herself and mention that she's being pulled in many different directions. She refuses and says she's not going to hint that she has too much on her plate.
I understand her reluctance, and agree that in certain situations you do just need to put your head down and your tail between your legs, but I also think at times that can give people in power a sense that they can walk all over you, or in Diva's case, take out their frustrations on you. I have offered to give one of Diva's higher ups with bipolar tendencies a piece of my mind on her behalf. She declined my offer and I was kidding....partially. I just don't agree with "punching bag" as part of her job description.
It turns out, Diva's forgetfulness reaped praise from the head honcho because he wasn't totally sure if he was staying overnight or heading home...that, and there were available hotel rooms for walk-ins. He actually referred to Diva not booking his room as "thoughtful" hahaha. I think he meant thoughtless? I'm just glad it worked out in her favor because then she's in a good mood on g-chat.
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