Last Week

Today I start my last week of work. I'll work six shifts this week (one shift every day but Tuesday) and then that's it, I'm finished bartending. I would like to say that I'll be finished bartending forever, but I'm pretty sure that's not going to end up being true. As long as I'm still a student with summer breaks and a limited stipend, I imagine I'll still be seizing any opportunity I can to make some fast cash, and, annoying as it is at times, waiting tables/bartending is the best way I have found to have a flexible schedule and make some fairly easy money.
I really was surprised by how much I ended up enjoying my job this summer. I know I keep talking about this, but it's still amazing to me that I liked going to work so much. I got along well with my coworkers (particularly at the opposite-side-of-town bar, where I ended up working most often), I managed to save more money than I thought I would, I didn't even mind chatting with my customers for the most part and since I tend to be sort of introverted, I thought that would be the hardest part.
Sure, I dealt with my share of morons, like the guy last night that fiddled with his wallet for a full minute when I told him what he owed, obviously hoping I'd have to walk away to do something else before he could get money out. Finally I guess he realized that even though the bar was busy, I wasn't going to walk away until the cash was in my hands, so he quickly threw five crumpled bills on the counter and then tried to scramble away before I could remind him that his bill was actually $7.50. And then he acted totally surprised. "OH, I only gave you five dollars? Really? You said $7.50? I thought you said five." Right, because "seven fifty" sounds so much like "five". It has the same number of syllables and everything! Obviously he was trying to just take his pitcher and run, or at least get away with only paying five bucks.
And then there are the guys who insist on giving me a running litany of compliments the whole time I'm working. I know this just comes with the territory of being a bartender and I was expecting it, but it is still amazing to me how many guys became enamored of me just because I said, "How are you?" and poured them a beer. They love my hair, they love my legs, they love my freckles, they love my personality, they love my smile, they love how I'm so serious, they love how I'm so funny, they love how I'm nice to everyone, they love how I can be mean, SHUT UP. I don't really understand the point of flirting with me. Do guys (and, one notable night, a drunk lesbian) throw compliments at me in the hopes that I will be flattered into giving them free drinks? Or are there just a lot of lonely and desperate guys out there? I'm not saying there's something inherently wrong with flirting with bartenders. Sure, if you're going to do it you have to be smart enough to know that everyone else in the bar is doing it, too, but I can see how maybe if I'd been going to the same bar for several months and chatting with the same bartender every day and I was getting little hints that he might be interested in me and I knew he was single, I might ask the bartender to hang out with me. But I cannot tell you how many times this summer a guy hasn't even gotten through his first beer before he asks, "So, would a girl like you ever consider going out with a guy like me?" [Incidentally, guys, if you have to phrase the question that way, odds are the honest answer is going to be "no", even if she's too nice to tell you that] Luckily this summer I have had the built-in excuse of, "Well, I'm moving in August so I'm not going to go out with anyone right now," but if I didn't have that excuse I'm not sure what I'd do. Disappoint a lot of people by flat out saying, "No," I guess.
So there are shady people and silly people, and sometimes the hours suck. Like this morning, when I didn't finish my shift at the bar until 3:30 and didn't get to sleep until after 4 and then at 6 freakin' 15 a group of construction workers rang the doorbell to tell my brother and I that we needed to move our cars out of the driveway so that they could park a dumpster and a porta potty there because they're beginning to replace our roof today. And then from 6:15 until 9:30 I had to listen to pounding on the roof, punctuated by occasional singing about "mi corazon". And then I finally fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion, but not before I had this weird, hazy, half-dream idea of putting a silencing spell on the construction workers, a sure sign that I have been reading way, way too much Harry Potter lately.
Speaking of which, I have a lot more reading to do before I have to go to work tonight. In fact, as much as I enjoy my job, I kind of wish I could skip it tonight to do more reading. Oh well!