The night manager who used to talk to me quit. Hmmm.
The morning waitress gave the new young night manager the most evil laugh yesterday morning when he was in for training. I think he was moved up from being a waiter. (Which never seemed like a good deal to me when I waited tables. Let’s see…work more hours, make less money, wear a different badge. Nope.)
“You don’t want to get on my wrong side,” she said to him, “You’ll never know what hit you, honey.”
Yikes. Probably true.
She’s the one who scared off Grumps.
On a lighter note, three or four people said nice things to me today. It was the first time since the infamous back injury that I had my laptop with me. Working on a short story that may demand to be a novella.
And doing my small part to keep the wheels of commerce oiled.
If there really is a writer’s strike and I and the crew people who come in at all hours of the day aren’t around, it’s going to put a big dent in the whole economy. We’re all just waiting.