once upon a time there was a girl who went to school--with varying periods of actual attendance--for nine years. during that nine years, she worked as a bartender. for the same man. the entire time.
one day she graduated with a BA in language, literature, and writing, and became a manager of that bar.
i'm now managing (but still bartending, of course) the bar.
it is important to note that i am quite sure this isn't because of any important managerial-type qualities that i possess, and more because the guy who was managing quit, and my boss sort of forgot to find anyone else to do his job.* i imagine the decision making process went something like this...
my boss: (internally) oh, fuck. who is going to work all those extra shifts next week? let me see... who do i trust? i know i can trust jen** and tiffany. and they both kind of already know how to do it, because i make them fill in for me when i don't have a babysitter. but, wait! jen can't work for the next three months, because of her internship. i guess tiffany is a manager now.
so, here i am,
does this count as the 'real job' i was supposed to achieve with my degree?
somehow i think not.
and still, this new(ish) job is causing me quite a bit of anxiety.
first, there's the issue of the counting. of the money. the Very Important Money.
you see, i know that my boss trusts me. i know that he knows that i would never do anything to deliberately hurt him, his partner, or the restaurant.
but i do find it equal parts hysterical and frightening that he has any sort of faith that i won't fuck things up royally on accident.
the decision to put me in charge of making sure all the money is figured out correctly at the end of the night could have gone something like this:
hmmm. tiffany has been a bartender for ten years, and still her bar drawer is almost always at least a little bit off at the end of the night. that girl just can't count for shit. i know! let's put her in charge of all of our money!
let me just be honest about one thing here. i have no math skills. whatsoever. even very basic math functions make my brain hurt. i am so bad at subtraction that i sometimes can't even do it with a calculator.
i wish i was kidding about this, but i'm not.
and while i'm belittling myself, i should also point out that i am not the most organized person in the world. we don't need to go into any details about how ridiculous of an understatement that is. we only need to understand that perhaps a job the requires one to be responsible for the proper handling and organization of thousands of dollars is probably not one that i am very well suited for.
but i'm trying anyway.
i've closed the office twice all by myself, and as far as i can judge--through the absence of my boss screaming at me--i didn't fuck anything up. even though this isn't 'The Job' for me, it's still my job at the moment. i want to a good job; i want to be able to help my bosses through this sort of crazy time, and i want to prove to myself that i'm really not as much of an idiot as i always think i am.***
*kind of a big oversite, but understandable when we consider that my boss was trying to open two brand new restaurants while simultaneously destroying and rebuilding the bar we work in at the time.
**my roommate. i think you're accustomed to hearing of her as 'baby girl.'
***the jury is definitely still out on this issue.