I moved to Brooklyn. September 2008.
Got a job, quit on the first day. Got another job the next day, at a cafe, as a waitress. It seemed great. The people were nice.
The owner hired me, claimed it was the busiest restaurant in Brooklyn. Economy was bad, restaurant did poorly.
Met some cool people, made some great friends, applied to school, got into school, started school. Seasons changed, it got cold. People moved away, west coasters kept moving east. Spent my 23rd birthday alone, watching President Obama get inaugurated. Got homesick. Lied to my bosses about my grandma being sick so I didn’t get fired for going home for Christmas. (Red flag number 1).
Came back. Got promoted to bartender. Loved it. Loved my customers, loved my friends, started to feel like home. I had a great crew. Made more friends, hung out all the time. School was hard, got a teaching job. It was awesome. Went to Puerto Rico, came back engaged. Put off planning a wedding. Stressed about money. Tips were bad, not too many customers.
Started blogging. Got more customers, friends came in on a weekly basis, had lots of fun, lots of laughs. Ran a half marathon. Still in school. Saved money – paid tuition in cash. Drained my savings. Started planning a wedding. Pushed it back to save more money. Thought it would be in Hawaii, planned for Washington to save more money. It got cold again, family came to visit. I kept blogging.
People found out. People chose not to read it. Believed rumors instead. People got mad.
Customers left. Those who remained used demeaning, awful pet names.
I hated it. Someone got really mad, spread rumors, people still didn’t read it.
People yelled at me, made me cry. I don’t cry in front of people.
Customer told me I thought I was better than everyone else because I was in school. Called it a “garbage dumpster sized chip on my shoulder.”
Customer came in with counterfeit money. Scared me. Asked for help – got yelled at for taking the counterfeit money.
Threw a rad New Year’s Party. Killed some sea monkeys. Had the best time with the best people.
Planned a wedding, applied to jobs, wrote a thesis.
Stressed. Stressed. Stressed.
Customer started to threaten me. Told boss I didn’t feel comfortable, was told I had to serve him anyway. Needed the money, didn’t walk out even though I desperately wanted to, needed the money.
Interviewed for jobs. Wedding date grew closer. Got an offer. Put in two weeks notice.
Came in for last shift, was told to go home – 2 years later and I didn’t even get a goodbye. Got a, “we found someone hotter.” Karma. I kept blogging.
Cried about leaving my friends – my Brooklyn family. Miss them every day – didn’t realize it would be that hard to leave.
Moved across the country, got married, got a puppy, got a car, got an apartment, adjusted to life. Still making friends. Seasons didn’t really change. Don’t know what to do with my winter coat… Miss my friends. Miss them a lot. Kept writing. Wrote a whole outline.
Published the first post, great success!
Published the second post. People were hurt, people got mad. Friends were concerned about still working there and being associated with the blogger. Gone for 7 months and somehow the owners still have control over my life. Took the posts down, hurt my friends. Apologized. Felt terrible.