Blue Bird

One part of my life in Logan that few people understand is my Blue Bird life. . my roommates might have a small idea, people who have worked serving tables might have a better idea. . . But it is only me and the other Blue Birds who really understand how truly . . . what is the word?. . satisfying. . (i guess). . my job is.

First of all that place is a joke. . run by 3 Asian brothers Min, Gui, and AungSug. . they have theses thick accents that you need at least a good month before you start to understand what they mean. They are a bit dishonest, and a bit perverted, and a bit unfair. . . . and I have caught Min multiple times sticking his finger in foods to taste test and not washing his hands (I wouldn't have it any other way Min's soups are Divine.)

Then you have the Spanish dishwashers, they speak no English. At all. So we communicate through smiles and gestures. . . It took me two weeks to figure out what "Hola mi amor!" meant. . I would just smile and say it back!. . and they would laugh with each other and wink at me. . . Bless their little emigrant hearts.

Shoot this post could go on forever.

But the moral of this story is you have no idea what goes on in the kitchen when you are quietly waiting for your food, and sipping your old fashion soda drink.

It is a sick and twisted family thing we have going on. . I just love everyone who is there, Including Vanessa who is weird.

Today they were throwing pickles. . PICKLES! from across the room onto the plates. (not one successful throw)

There was a big community bucket of Peach Punch (the best drink at the Bird, my opinion) that you just dunk your glass in and sip from. . . or sip from the cup that was there.

Wanye had his belly button shirt on.

Singing brakes out all the time.

And there was a wedding party that came in today, and they were some of the most annoying people I've met. . In the restaurant we are all so nice. . But in that kitchen, shoot. . the jokes about these idiots would not stop. . . .We have some dang funny cooks.

This might not seem fun to you. But if you were a blue bird you would understand what a joke my job is, a beautiful, wonderful joke.

For the other servers reading (cause I have such an extensive broad range of readers. ha!)

Just think of this-

-We don't deal with any of the money.

-No alcohol

-We tip out NO ONE

-We have a building with three floors and over 6 stair cases to run around

-side work is a joke, so simple.

-the guys you work for sound like they are doing standup comedy when they yell at you because their English is so bad.

-you get to wear a tie

-Friday and Saturday nights the place closes at 9:30

-I can have a New York stake any time I want for 5$ a monty cristo sandwich for 3

Life is good

And the best part is- that they all think I'm a queen, they can't get enough of the MK.

I was SO funny today, most days I'm not funny, today- everyone was my best friend and they all stood wanting of the sweet humor that poured from my lips.

Then I ask myself: Why do I go to school to get a good job when I am so happy and content with a kooky job like this? Would I trade today for a day sitting in an office making double what I made? -no.

Ok, you are right. . . When I'm 43, still at blue bird, I might sing a different tune, It might not be as fun to flirt with the old men at my tables to get a better tip, or "go long" to catch a crouton in my mouth.

But today it was perfect.

And I'm just so happy that I wasn't an idiot who was married at 19, and get to enjoy my life of 145$ Rent.