Stinker of a Sunday
Today’s visit to Buffalo Wild Wings lasted six…minutes. Six minutes was all it took for me to see I didn’t want to be there today. Not with it so crowded, not without any of my favorite waitresses there, not with me having gone six straight days.
After I was told Liz had switched with someone, I left. Liz was supposed to work a double shift today, but she deserved the day off after working so late yesterday. If I would have known she would not be there, I would have never left the Overland Park Marriott and made the drive, which was even longer today after hitting heavy rain on I-635 near the Missouri River.
I do not trust most of the male staff at that Buffalo Wild Wings. I find them to be rude and indifferent compared to most of the ladies on staff. I do not want a man waiting on me. I will not sit in a section where a man is serving. If I did have a certain group of men, I would stiff them and give them zero tip. I would never consider that with a lady, but with certain men, absolutely.
It rained hard again going back to the hotel near the river. I crossed the river this time at the Kit Bond Bridge and drove south on US 71 to I-435 so I could at least gouge myself on junk food and sugar at the QuikTrip on State Line Road.
I’m so depressed today. I went to sleep for about two hours between 5 and 7. I’ve done nothing but watch my DVD collection of The O.C.–no sports, nothing else. I’ll look up the weekend in sports before The Pulse tomorrow night, but other than that, I am not interested in sports right now. I’m too sad.