…at the (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel, that I now work at:
1) A (blonde) (make-upped) (college-age) coworker introduces me to this one (younger) (white) customer who’s a friend of theirs who’s visiting from out-of-town from a town to the south of us, and that friend comments that she’s in the service industry, too, although she works at “a hillbilly country club.”
“You guys should serve moonshine cocktails,” I was like.
“Actually, we do,” she was like.
She also said that she sells a shit-ton of pickleback shots, since she tells everyone that it will help them with their golf-swing.
2) In the early part of the shift before any rush and people are chatting, someone asks me how I’m doing, and I say great because I just filed my taxes, and at that my one (skinny) (bearded and balding) (pun-loving) coworker says that it’s a great feeling to have that off your chest, he just filed multiple years of back taxes since he hadn’t paid his taxes for like five years, and when I raise an eyebrow at that, he vaguely says something about a medical condition and insurance and treatments, although he doesn’t say anything about not being able to manage paperwork, and he's just all very mysterious about it, even though he's the one who mentioned everything first.
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