Years ago I worked at the Meeteetse Visitor Center and there were two women on the board of directors who were wretched bitches with me. I ended up quitting when they tried to make me sign a contract dictating how I lived my life, how I dressed, who I could socialize with, and on and on and on. They were on a power trip to say the least.
One of the women came into the cafe for dinner on Monday night and just the sight of her made me want to set her hair on fire. The downside to working in a very small place is most of the time I’m alone, both the cook and the server, and I can’t shove undesirable people off on another server.
I was my most professional and acted as if they were strangers while I served them and cooked their food. I’ll bet that bitch was sweating, though. If I treated someone like she treated me, then I discovered they were cooking my food, I’d find somewhere else to eat. Good thing I think food tampering is morally reprehensible.
I loved the position she was in. She couldn’t get up and leave without explaining why she couldn’t chance me cooking her food and she had to rely on my professionalism, the one thing she accused me of not having at the Visitor Center. It made me smile all night.