Days 7 and 8: The P Word and the Neverending Journey (to find a part time job)

Kokneechewa mis amigos!  Sorry I’m not sorry for the delay in my blagging; I have been too busy muttering made up Hail Marys in between puffs of cigarettes as I plead with Carrie to help me find a job.

Carrie hasn’t answered my prayers (yet…).

Regardless, there has been some excitement over the past 3 days.  Monday started with me actually looking forward to go to work because it was the last week and that only means one things: movies on movies on movies.  Sadly, I was in for a ruder awakening than Whitney experienced after her bath. Oh wait. Anyway, yea…movies are great except when you have to rewatch them over and over again with each class.  And Sandra Bullock is great, but when the only thing kids can take away from the Blind Side is that “da white shone haz a nice ass”, I had half a mind to write her a letter complaining her ass needs to make like my lesson on modern racism…fall completely flat.  I’ll add that to this weekend’s list of To-Do, alongside making more than $25 at the nearest streetcorner and ordering a boat to Cuba so that I can finally have someone delivered who can fix my air conditioner.  No…it’s still not fixed. UGH.

After work, I had to go take my bartending exam in South Beach with ScaManagement and the MTV Rejects.  As I’m taking my test – which was literally so easy I thought to myself “whoever is having problems answering what is in a long island and how to make a martini probably comes from the same dumpster as Sarah Palin” – I realize that it seems some of the rejects actually do have something in common with Palin (aside from the obvious fact they were all rejected from some form of an MTV reality show…good ole Sarah just got lucky with her 7th choice – Discovery.  It’s like, really Bravo?  You can have a Real Housewives of like Bumfuck, TN but you can’t have a RH of Alaska?  Sarah and her gaggle of moose (meese?) would make THRILLING tv as they try to travel to Russia while keeping Sarah’s house in their line of vision ok this is off topic i apologize)REGARDLESS the rejects were having problems with the test.  So many problems that the supposed 20 minute test took 95 MINUTES! Now I’m not a math teacher or anything, but there were only 10 questions (MC/fill in blank) on the test….and it took 95 minutes for 8 people to finish….so 7 people took at least…9.5 minutes on each question.  I don’t know if they kept on getting confused between the difference between answer choice ‘A’ and ‘C’ or whether they thought short answer meant minimum of 10-12 sentences, but I was about to drop the ‘R’ word and just be like ‘peace out, [R word]s’.  Alas, as the word Helen Keller and Susan Boyle both dread came slipping out of my lips, they finished and they failed. Womp wompppp sucks to suck etc etc.  I rolled out of the test site with my license and was like “hip hip hooray now i can be a rich brat in sobe once I find my bartending job!!!’ except jokes on me…I fear that job is as elusive as Amanda Bynes real hair 😦 😦 😦

After leaving the site of R words, I go meet my friend Sophia and Britney for dinner.  Dinner was succulent until Britney’s BF decided to compare my (literally heaven sent) fries topped with pesto sauce to the P word.  Now, I don’t know if many of you know how I feel about the P word, but let’s put it this way:  Superman has kryptonite, Clinton has hos in blue dresses, and Taylor Swift has “dooshbag” penises – my weakness is the P word.  It is the SINGLE most disgusting revolting inhumane word out there…and it is all formed with two simple letters…’O’ and ‘P’.  As soon as Vin Diesel (Britney’s BF) uttered the P word, I slowly transformed from looking like this (just not as suggestive…)Image

to this….


(Notice the weight fluctuation – those pesto fries were GOOOOOOD until Vin Diesel was a huge doosh)

By uttering those damned words, Vin Diesel prompted a horrifying 36 hour nightmare filled with the P word. but that comes later on here..

From 5:57am-6:17am, Tuesday was GREAT! I jammed to Miley’s new songs about E and Coke in the shower, barely burnt my microwave bacon, and remembered to put on hair gel!  Without hair gel/moose (mouse? mousses? damn I didn’t realize how bad/lazy I am at spelling until I quit alcohol…)my hair gets so bent out of shape that I look like Frankenstein’s 3rd wife.  So I’m in a fine and dandy mood -practically skipping to my car – until I pull out of my parking space and here the LOUDEST, UGLIEST grind noise ever.  For a second, and I’m not even joking, I thought my biggest wish/nightmare came true: Carrie was visiting me in the form of her “Before He Cheats” character (wish), but instead of keying my imaginary boyfriend’s (notice the singular possessive) car, she got confused and keyed mine!!!! I quickly realize that alas/thank god Carrie isn’t keying my car but rather I backed up into the side of the one of THOUSANDS of random stone pillars jutting around my parking garage like an inbred’s mouth before dental.  When I finally fixed my Darcar Toyota’s car I’m leasing, it looked like I painted a big white racing stripe on it.  F MY L.

I get to work barely with enough time to buy the donuts I promised my 4th period I’d bring in for the class party. It seemed MTV Rejects applied to Dunkin Donuts when they failed the bar test because naturally the dozen glazed donuts that I ordered turned into a dozen mixed. When 4th enters, all they see are the gross, summer special DD donuts – key lime pie filled and lemon filled – and they immediately FREAK OUT like I was trying to poison them and start SCREAMING “ohmagawwwdddd its [insert P word]”.


I came *thisclose* to shattering the wall of hetero I built with them and having a hugeeee drama queen moment, like I do when my friends rudely drop the P word.  Thankfully, I swallowed the gay/bile and just told them to sit down, eat the donut, and watch Sandra’s ass save the world. (seriously though I need to send her that letter…)

After school, I had 2 job opportunities I wanted to jump on.  Each one involved open interviews at bars/restaurants I thought I could make alot of money at and also have a good chance of getting the job.  So I jump into my pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive and set off for Palace – South Beach – home of Miami’s finest drag queens (the same place I blagged about earlier  on Sunday).  Yes, I was going to apply to be a bartender or server at a bar whose weekly special is “cosmos and bacon” and weekend special is “fake vag and laxative” . I show up at 2pm looking sooo cute in a black button down shirt/khaki pants combo (ok yes the one I wear like every week to work) but I was so proud of my hair for staying perfect as I whistled down the highway with windows down.  I show up and am directed to the manager.  I had high hopes for this interview – I am such a frequent visitor that I am practically one of the drag queens baby daddy – so imagine my dismay when the manager takes my resume and dismisses me right away.  Apparently they are simply COLLECTING resumes and then giving call backs for interviews next week.  DAMN YOU CRAIGSLIST. I still had one more job to apply for though, so I hope in my car and head to Coral Gables.

For those of you that don’t know Miami, Coral Gables is protected from the unwanted scum of South Beach by hours of traffic and 1 lane roads.  When I finally get there I am furiously agitated by the unwanted scum trying to drive to Coral Gables that I had to think of Taylor getting dumped again to put a smile on before my interview for a serving position at a BBQ place (i know right…from drag queens to pulled pork…my life couldn’t be any more thrilling).  Except apparently the manager effed up the craigslist posting and this inteview was instead for a DISHWASHING position.  I probably looked so affronted that I wanted to cry proud tears of shame, because the manager quickly covered up the ugly truth with the ugly lie that he will probably be looking to hire servers in end of June.  UGHWTHMAN

Tuesday ended on a bright note as I got dinner with my dear friend Cameron.  In a few weeks Cameron is leaving for bigger and better things 😉 and we are tryna hang out a lot beforehand.  As we chomped away at a local Sushi parlor, Cameron let slip the P word.  Yea…I’m not even going to describe my reaction this time.  Sushi and the P word never mix.

Finally, the night ended with trivia with Denzel, Seinfeld, Marlo, James, Joey, and Katherine.  This is one of the first times I have been tempted with alcohol so far on this journey, and I was so proud of myself for choosing 9.5 waters with lemon instead (I did feel like I had a UTI though because I had to pee like every 10 minutes…stupid water).  One of the categories was Dance…and naturally James assumed I would pwn this category because I’m not a dirty breeder like he is.  As the category came to a close I realized just how far I have to go to fill Tom Brady’s shoes as “World’s Biggest Fairy” because I literally had no idea about a) any dance movies b) any dance songs c) any dancing period.  I guess this is why the hump-n-grind is so acceptable nowadays…no one except our grandparents would be able to dance at all 😦 😦

I was going to add more stories from today but I’ll leave with this because I’m tired…I am on my balcony tiredly typing and below me some vacationers were gabbing away about what they wanted to do this weekend and it sounded vehemently disgusting so thankfully the next voice I hear is “ey you over der…chill the F out…go to sleep…stop it”.  It was a glorious moment of an old tired grumpy Latino verbally bitch slapping two annoying bitches who would have probably kept me up because my door has become my form of air conditioning.   Old dancing people FTW.