The Games People Play.

After having a really good time bowling and having dinner with "boy" on Sunday afternoon/early evening, my faith in humanity was briefly restored when a random act of kindness occured between myself and my next door neighbor.
It wasn't anything life altering, infact to most people it probably wouldn't be considered significant at all; to me it was.
Basically, he was a douchebag, and apologized for it. Some might think it's just the proper thing to do, but in todays world, being able to say you're sorry for something you did really goes a long way. Especially if you're just a random stranger.
Often times it's hard to say you're sorry to people you know...let alone someone you dont.

And, for a brief while I was in this weird state where for just a moment I got all, optimistic about things. Sometimes it's not the things the people in your life do, but the things the people not in your life do, that grab you by the gonads and shake you up.
The fact that I totally have a crush on him (only because he's pretty) didn't hurt, but still...it left me feeling good about the world and the people in it.
I even intended on writing one of those completely uncharacteristic blogs about the goodness in people, and crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap.

Luckily, just two days later, douchebaggery at the hands of people has given me the ever-so-oft opportunity to again turn my back on people and the imafuckinshitstainofasoul ways. And, it's completely reaffirmed by ideas that I simply cannot catch a break.

I swear it's like I'm playing that board game life. I got stuck with the ugly yellow car, I chose to go in debt by going to college only to land on that Lose your job space where I'm now a the bottom of the barrel, I live in a trailer, and my car is weighed down by 35436546542 little pegs that are supposed to be children, but they're probably not even mine, just random bastards suckin me dry for what little I have left.

Or maybe it's Monopoly, and all I have in the world is Baltic and Mediterranean. I'm the wheel barrel (really...who picks that?) and I've mortaged my shitty little piece of land to pay my debts after landing on Boardwalk or Park Place with three houses, consecutively. Snake Eyes are a bitch.

Trouble and I can't get outta start?
Parcheezi and someones fuckin camel is blockin me from moving? Towel heads.

Ah, too far..too far.
So, anyway.
I worked Tuesday night. It wasn't a particularly great night, but it wasn't completely shit.
And, by complete shit I mean like Wednesday or Thursday. (Two days that are so bad that I'm embarrassed to be getting paid for.)
First a fight broke out between a co-worker (formerly known as, now) and some random piece of Isellcokeandwillprollyfuckanythingwhowillgivemeadollarortwo. I won't say I encouraged the fight, but at first I did find it more pertinent to tie my unlaced shoes rather than break it up immediately.
After it ceased, then began again I figured action was in order, so i broke it up and in the process got elbowed in the mouth.
Nothing too serious, however it did cause me cut my lip, so that everytime I eat or drink...burnage ensues.
I don't know how well you know me, but...if theres two things I like doing, it's eating, and drinking. Followed closely by fornication, and sleep.

After the bar closed and everyone was out, "roomate" helped me do my nightly closing procedure, I counted out my drawer put all the money in the safe, locked up and went the fuck home to ...yup...eat.
Early the next afternoon I was awoken by phone calls from the manager and owner telling me all the money from the three shifts wasn't anywhere to be found.
Of course, knowing that I'd bundled them all up properly and put them "safely" in the safe....this couldn't be true.
So, with major grumpage I went down to the bar, and faced the realization that...the money was in fact gone.
Approximately 700 dollars.
Now, of course, I didn't lock the safe. I never lock the safe, and truth be told, most of the staff doesn't lock the safe. Most of them have worked there or been around there for at least the better part of ....forever, so trust with money is usually not an issue.

I left at approximately 2:45 am. The cleaning guy arrived at approximately 9:00 am, where he met with one of the DJs and his girlfriend, and another bartender not long thereafter.
They were the only people around the safe until the person who discovered the missing money was, infact missing arrived.
The interesting part, is whoever took it, took the money, then locked the safe, making it look like the safe was locked the night before and the money was just excluded. This is an important part, because..I NEVER lock the safe. (lesson learned..)
So, that leaves five suspects.
One being myself, whom...I'll admit im biased towards. As I said, I do not steal, but if I were going to steal, I'd find a way to steal on a night when someone else was responsible for the money, not on a night I was..lol...it's just logic.

Two and three is obviously the DJ and his girlfriend, When I gave them the list of suspects the said I cant believe they (the other two possible culprits) would steal. I said, well...if its not either of them, then it's one of you...so would you like to rethink that theory?

Four is the other bartender/manager. I can't think of any logical reason for him to do it, but...then ...it's not logical for anyone that works there to pull sucha piece of shit move.

Five is the cleaning guy. (not boner...the other one) I happen to personally love the shit outta this person, and would prefer to blame one of the others over him, however...the fact that he did spend the night at a hotel with crackheads, and was openly heard saying he had no money, then sat in the bar drinking and buying drinks for several hours afterwards.....kinda reminds me of Operation. When you go to pull out the pencil, or the fucking wishbone, and the light goes off just barely cuz you just rouged the edge of the metal thing. So lightly that the buzzer didn't go off, but the light just flickered a bit.
Yeah.
I'm not a finger pointer, and I certainly don't know. I mean, if OJ is innocent of murder, surely theres not enough evidence to crucify the cleaning guy.

As it stands now, the money is gone. Everyone's pissed. And, I...alone, am responsible for paying back the money. (which...I'm not happy with...but I accept because it was ultimately my responsibility to lock the safe.)

The bad part is that financially I've been in sucha bad spot. Business has been slow, and tips have been even slower. It's kinda like Hungry Hungry Hippos, everoyne fighting for...whatever those little things are, and I'm the defunct hippo thats like falling off the damn board thingy, all scratched up and gettin no ....whatever those little things are that everyone else is getting.

Then, the coworker that got into the fight got fired. They want me to fill in his measley afternoon shifts so that I can earn extra money to pay back the money I have to pay back. (coughimbittercough)
It's not that that's unfathomable, its just that he worked three days a week, two of which I work at night, so..this means I'll be working doubles for a bit to pay this shit off. Which, doubles can be nice if theres a reward, but...since I'm basically gonna be working my dick off to pay back money that some random asshole disguising themself as a coworker can reap the reward.

I've pictured all four of them in different scenarios, diving into a pool of the nights credit card slips, pay out notices and torn open envelopes. Counting the dollar bills one by one by one. Tossing quarters out the window, who needs change when you can just steal money cause yer a piece of shit?!

This fiasco, coupled with everything else going on, is definitely leaving me feeling a bit discouraged.
Kinda like playing Jenga and going for a piece you know you cant pull, but trying anyway cuz its your only option. Then watching as the whole fucking thing falls in your lap, in your rum and coke thats in a red dixie cup that shouldnt be near a game that falls down, but is anyway. And, then you get even more mad cuz not only do you hafta pick a little wooden block outta yer cocktail, but you gotta set up the fucking blocks all over again because some random asshole yer with insists on one more game of Jenga, when all you wanna do is go back to playing Life with yer 3526572 kids and yer piece of shit yellow car and yer rock bottom job.