second day back to work, and all has gone to hell. it turns out that our beloved bar back, a 19-year old from mexico, stole a ladies purse. and since i work in a korean club, of course the purse was, allegedly, a $950 gucci, containing, among other expensive SHIT, an $80 keychain. we looked through everyone's bag, and i was offering mine up too, tho' literally i haven't taken a dollar's worth since the day i started. we stopped the bar back, his name is jimmy, and said, we're looking at everyone's bag, show me yours. he refused, and started saying that everyone gives him problems because he's mexican etc etc because he's speaking so quickly in spanish i can hardly understand one word out of ten. he then leaves without letting us look, and two waiters soon give chase.
meanwhile, i'm called to speak with the girls, one of whom had her purse stolen. she's created a list of all her lost belongings totaling $2080. first of all, who in their fucking right mind would walk around with $2000 under her armpit? i freak out just carrying my ipod, but then again, i'm not (really) korean and i don't feel the need to flaunt whatever it is one flaunts with gucci and louis vuitton and prada and all that bullcrap. (ok, not really, i'm just being intentionally racist and inflammatory.)
i tell these girls, okay, i'll listen to what you have to say, tho' i'm not really the one in control. so they start talking about how this chic's driver's license and keys were in the purse, and how she doesn't feel safe, and she'll have to change her locks. how her car is now parked on the street and who knows what will happen to that. and her credit cards, etc etc. and that they want some compensation. how we're liable because they gave the purse to us, or one of our staff, to take care of and it was our responsibility. nice try lady, but there was no real contractual agreement that we would be 100% liable for your shit. it was a friendly agreement that we would watch over your purse, you basically asked your friend, our waiter, to put it away. but i understand that this has been a trouble to you and i'd like to do what i can. but i cannot give you $2080 because literally i don't have the money nor a checkbook with access to sufficient funds. can i offer you cab fare home and a promise that we will meet to talk about this, because it's late, and there's really nothing i can do. you don't understand, they say, how do we trust you? (uhh, i work here every day, and why, if you know who i am, would i lie? you can find me easily.) blahtity blahtity blahtity we want money, they're basically saying. they see green. i can't give you $2000. how do we know you'll deal with this? i'll put it in writing. whatever you want, i'll put it in writing, that we'll meet, that we'll discuss this, that we'll consider everything. our insurance may even cover it and you may be able to get the full amount. we want to talk to the real owner. look, i'm their daughter, pretty much what i say goes to their ears. we want to talk to whomever makes the decisions. it's a family business. not everyone is here. well get them here. NO. it's 6:30 am. I am not calling my dad to drive into the city to talk to some drunk/hung over girls at 6:30 am. money grubbers at that. we're not going to be able to do what you want, anyways. so please, tell me, what can i do for you right now that would make you happy, besides giving you $2000. Do you want us to call the cops? no, not really. but please, tell me what i can do. we want compensation for our troubles. what kind of compensation? i can't give you the full amount. we're calling the cops. you're not working with us. we just need something official in writing like a police report.
what the fuck?!?!?!?!!
at this point i'd really like to slam these girls' heads together. i mean, they thought they were so smart and articulate and with it. logically, even at 6:30am, on no sleep, peeved to no end, i'm running circles around them. and here is the ultimate reason why i never want to own my own business: you can't yell at them to shut the fuck up and you have to keep kowtowing and do your best to put on a happy, subservient face. my best attempt was to get up say you're not making any sense, i'll be right back, and walk away. i mean, for crying out loud, i'm not going to even humor you into thinking that we'd fork over $100 for your FUCKING LOST MAKEUP. i hate girls. i hate koreans. okay, not really on both counts, but i'm going to turn out to be a racist yet.
at least one of the cops was hot.
now i'm so depressed. jimmy, our barback, was really nice guy. it turns out that when the waiters caught up to him, they "forced" him to show them his bag and in it was the missing purse. i tried my best to look out for him. the rest of the staff didn't hate him so much as they didn't trust him and sort of abused him for the amount of work he had to and took him for granted. i realize the situation that created the need for him to steal, but i feel like all the trust we built up, tentatively, as he knew little english and my spanish was rusty beyond "hi how are you" and "where's the bathroom?". i resolve to not let this change my nature. most of all, i miss not having responsiblitiy, i miss meeting cool people, i miss the outdoors, i miss traveling. i miss not being here and not having so much authority solely because i'm the boss' daughter. I'M NOT THE MANAGER. I'M JUST THE CASHIER and sometimes bartender. LEAVE ME ALONE.
and what do i miss most of all? wah with a certain someone. because i'm 27, incredibly independent and headstrong and self-reliant but i still view marriage/romantic relationships as an escape. i'm hopeless.
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