Too Young To Hold On, Too Old To Just Break Free And Run

Picture of Jeff Buckley


So I’ve been at “bar X” in MPD for a while now. I’ve endured numerous, required, eerily long epically repetitive “training” sessions. I’ve eaten crow repeatedly as The Low Man on The Totem Pole. I’ve made good money here and there over the months and met mostly really cool and very talented people. I’ve also run into a handful of ass-nasty useless turds that pass for service industry employees. I guess there are bad seeds in every bunch.

Just like the majority of my dating history, where I’ve mostly not been a dude who does the shagnasty with a different qualified (a 7.5 with a pulse) pretty young thing from evening to evening, I tend to stick it out at bars and turn them into my own. I can eventually thrive where others have failed. The  primary reason is that I fucking hate looking for  a new job whether it’s an office job or restaurant/bar gig. I despise it almost much as I hate looking for an apartment and moving. Job hunting and moving are two endeavors which cause me so much stress, that I’d rather contemplate smoking endless rocks from glowing, red-hot glass phallus.

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