My Mugstache

Hello. Please meet my new, awesome mugstache.

Not only is it a sweet representation of a fine fellow with a mustache, there is also a mustache guard, a small strip of whatever material this mug is made out of, that perfectly rests along the top of the mug, helping to keep coffee out of my mustache.

My friends are awesome. And give me gifts.

...

The humidity has climbed into numbers I do not care to repeat. While it may not be Texas hot and humid, it still is up there, and has been sucking the life out of me. Especially working in a small, enclosed kitchen that offers little to no ventilation. Luckily, working in the basement, or the 'prep cave' as I now refer to it as, offers a little more of a comfortable atmosphere, despite not being able to look outside via a window. Its a fair trade.

...

Sadly, I must tip the proverbial forty oz out to a friend, a fallen soldier. L. Marge, my favorite dishwasher, has left work for a little while.

I've been growing kind of fond of my Monday and Tuesday shifts with her. She, in her way, figured out exactly how to push my buttons, which was getting to be annoying. Like on the days when she knew I was hungover, which is often, she'd like to just talk to me, when she knew I wanted to be left alone. Always talking, that one. She even admitted that's what she was doing to me.

But I still loved her attitude for the most part. Going off on the boss about hiring new dishwashers, hounding her in fact. Making fun of our coworkers together, her snide remarks behind people's backs. Just not really caring for the most part, about much of anything work related. I don't blame her. No one wants to wash dishes.

And then endlessly telling me about her dogs.

She once fixed a china-cap (i.e. big strainer), by taking it to the old metal shop she used to be a welder at, back in the day. She fixed it herself, re-welding the bottom piece back together... such a weird gesture, from someone prone to not caring, suddenly taking a relatively cheap piece of equipment to get fixed, even though we have another one.

She fell off the wagon. Not sure about the entire story. But that's her business. I feel sort of guilty for all the stories about crazy bar nights that I've been telling her recently. Anyways, her replacement is actually a friend of a friend, who has keen musical tastes.

I found myself beside myself, realizing I didn't have to be in "silent running" mode all shift, and could actually have a conversation I wanted to be in.

So this one is for you, L. Marge. Come back soon.