Can I Get You A Drink?...

Hello Lovelies... When I was in my early 20's I was living on my own, struggling to make ends meet and I had the biggest piece of junk for a car. I was constantly getting stranded and my family and friends were getting pretty tired of rescuing me. I had my eye on this beautiful red sports car that I just had to have. It wasn't within my budget so I decided to get myself a fun and easy second job.


There was a restaurant right down the street from my apartment that was hiring for a part time cocktail waitress...perfect, what an easy, fun way to make extra money! Well, it's not as easy as it seems! I had to hustle...really hustle, people can get pissy if you don't get them their drinks fast! I also had to fend off drunk old men, but my biggest challenge was my "foot 'n mouth" syndrome and my coordination or rather, the lack there of.


On my first day at my job there was a very long wait, so I started to service the bar area, getting drinks for the waiting guests. A man ordered three drinks, one for his wife, his daughter and himself. One of the drinks he ordered was a virgin margarita. I returned with the drink order and picked up the virgin margarita, held it up to the daughter and said "virgin?" she shook her head nervously, "yes", so I handed the drink to her. "Oh no" she said, "the virgin Margarita is for my mother!" AWKWARD! Oh geez, I'm off to a great start!


A couple of days later I had a man offer me $100.00 if I would go arm and arm with him to a court hearing for his pending divorce. Oh brother...as much as I needed the money...no thanks! I got through the next several weeks with just a few minor incidents UNTIL I delivered a drink order to a table and proceeded to trip AND spill the entire drink right down the backside of the birthday girl. Happy Birthday, Honey!!!


Oh Crap...why do these things always happen to me? And why do I have to be so hopelessly clumsy? Alright girl, get yourself together, you need this job...remember that cute little red sports car? So I apologized to the group, paid for their round (ouch) and then promptly returned to the bar to replace the drink I spilt on the birthday girl. Upon my return to the table I tripped AGAIN and that drink went flying off the tray. Needless to say, my cocktail career came to an immediate end. Bye...bye beautiful red sports car!
xoxo Betty

Random Security Check

Several years ago I traveled frequently between New York and LA and I always seemed to get chosen for a "Random Security Check". After 9/11 I never got through an airport without a full baggage and body search. I'm all about safety and the inconvenience of this "dog and pony show", but I had one incident at the Long Beach Airport that went above and beyond the call of duty.

As usual, while checking in, I was informed that I had been selected for a "Random Security Check. "Oh you're kidding, what a surprise" I chirped sarcastically. So off to the side I went and looked on while they rifled through my perfectly strategically packed suitcase.

As I entered the terminal, I'm now on to phase two...the body search. I learned long ago to remove any jewelry, shoes, belts etc. as not to set off the metal detector and to help speed up the process. As I proceeded through the metal detector, the alarm sounded. I was asked to step to the side and assume the position that looks something like a frozen jumping jack, and my full body search began.

Being that I had already removed all my jewelry, my shoes were gone, my belt was gone I couldn't understand what the detector could be detecting. My body search was conducted by a very nice boy, who couldn't have been a day over 18. He started at my ankles and worked his way up the entire length of my leg. I have to say it was really creeping me out the way he was flipping his hands back and forth from his palm side to his back side as he worked his way up my leg.

He then moved on to my waistband...slowly taking his time. Mind you, this was in an open area of the terminal and I'm now noticing quite a few people were beginning to look my way. He suddenly worked his hand flip routine right up to the base of my bra area and then switched over to his magic wand thing-a-ma-jig, back to his hands once more and by now I was starting to get pissed off! I told him if he was going to keep feeling me up and down he'd better start stuffing some dollar bills into my waist band! He asked me if I would be more comfortable with a woman conducting the search...Oh yes, that be great if I could get a woman over here to start feeling me up and down...thought you'd never ask!

I didn't want to re-start this process and the crowd of spectators was growing...so I asked him if he could hurry with feeling me up so I could get on with it. He was stuck on my chest area and kept waving his wand back and forth near the base of the front of my bra. Ah Ha! I looked at him and asked him how long he'd been on the job, he said "Actually, this is my first day" now I understand. I leaned into him and I told him that his magic wand was detecting the under wire in my bra and that I would gladly remove my bra if this would end this spectacle. He turned every shade of red, white and blue, and that was the end of my VERY thorough body search!

xoxo Betty