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i feel like a cartoon character, you know, when one gets really angry and he turns red from the toes up, resulting in steam shooting out his animal ears, or they twist up in a bunch. that's how i feel.

i'm trying to purge the racism from my head, the racism that has creeped its way in from working at the club. let's make this clear: i don't hate koreans. i just hate the ones that work at the club, and most of the customers.

i kinda flipped out tonight, and i feel bad for flipping out and yelling at some of the employees. i don't feel bad about why i did the yelling, but i guess i feel badly because I'M NEVER GOING TO GET THROUGH THEIR SKULLS and in their eyes, i'm just some bitchy daughter of the boss who freaks out every once in a while.

we had two new busboys today. we usually have three working between the two joints, but we had two. and they didn't have a clue as to what was going on, either. while we're frantically cleaning at closing tonight, i hear one of the more senior waiters saying, amigo, amigo, bathroom. as if that alone were enough to compel this guy who barely speaks english to go clean the bathroom. and the guy, well, he was working hard, trying to get the thousands of cups and shot glasses through the dishwasher. meanwhile, some of the other waitstaff were sitting on their asses, smoking and shootin the shit. so i kinda freaked and said, hey, he's a little slow, we're going to have to pull a little more weight around here tonight, ok?!

the thing is, some of the others had. the one who was bossing the busboy around ... he peeves me off to start with. and i understand that there's training involved, but it's the tone of voice he had, that he always has, like he's calling his dog to him, and then telling him to go eat a pile of shit. that completely demeaning, condescending, i expect you to do what i say as quickly as you can, no questions asked, bitch, kind of voice. and that's what got my goat.

working at the club and seeing this kind of stuff hurts my soul. it really does. the racism is so deeply engrained in all the employees, the culture, even in my parents. and the best i can do is give them a few extra dollars, be it by skimming the tips and when there are, a healthy cut of my own bar tips. but the dollars don't compensate for the demeaning, the ridicule, the feeling of working for people who make you feel shitty and lesser.

but then in my head i took a step back. sure i can sit on my highhorse and try and say i'm not like that, but in a way, i am. i shop at the gap. i buy clothes that are made in sweatshops in developing countries. i know this, but it doesn't always stop me. so indirectly, i'm contributing to the same kind of oppression and classism and racism that i so hate at the club. the other problem is that i've kind of had a rough few days. too much responsibility since my parents are out of the country and they always keep their affairs in the state of borderline chaos. i don't know how they keep it together. and i've been taking my frustration out on some of the people around me, the employees, because i guess in the end i know they can't do anything about it, nor do i care because i hate them so much.

i'm an awful person.