Confessions of a person who serves you food:

I am up to my elbows in one dollar bills. Stripper, server, or both? You decide. But the answer is really stripper.

I had to refill the coffee tonight. When I said I didn't know how to do that, the girl behind me said "HAHA YOU'RE SO FUNNY" like I was joking around. I laughed, nervously, and then said, "Wait... I'm being serious. I literally have no idea what I'm doing." She had already left by then, so I struggled through until, finally, coffee came out piping hot. As I swung around the corner to bring it to my table, I spilled it on myself. NOTHING GOOD CAN COME FROM COFFEE, I TELL YOU!

Tonight, I won a competition at work because I sold an outstanding number of draft beers. And because I was such a good little salesgirl, my boss treated me to an incredibly juicy, medium rare, practically bleeding sirloin dinner. It was mouth-wateringly delicious and I am a carnivore.

Yesterday, my favorite co-worker, Milton (the one who is a retired Air Force pilot and reminds me, fondly, of Lt. Col. John A. Kearns... my adorable father) told me I was born to be a server. I'm still trying to decide whether or not I am flattered by that statement. Thoughts?

P.S. I am going to a Joshua Radin concert tomorrow night in Salt Lake. J-Rad is my ULTIMATE when it comes to music. The last concert of his I went to, I met him after the show and Missy's hand got caught in his suspenders. That's right. HIS SUSPENDERS! 37 year old dreamboat. I'd marry that man, 5real (HEY RAY).