She sprayed me. Right in my face. She took the hose that she uses to spray the crap off of dirty dishes and sprayed me in the face with it.
She’s my work hoe. I love this girl. She washes the dishes at the restaurant I work at and her and I are inseparable. Whenever we have shifts together, usually every Thursday, her and I are fucking around the entire day. We gossip. We play pranks on each other. Whatever needed to make the work day flow with fun that’s what we do.
Work gangsters is how I’d describe us. We’re good at our jobs. We never call out. we go hard and play hard….
Except on this day.
I went to sleep the night before feeling emotional. I woke up the next day with a headache, my boobs hurt, and emotionally sensitive. Yes, if you’re thinking that these are the symptoms of a girl’s menstrual you are correct. I hadn’t gotten it yet but these symptoms always start up a few days prior. I knew it would be a long day at work but I mentally prepared myself for it. On my way into work I repeated my morning affirmations that would allow me to positively get through the day.
But then… I get to work and the mood sets in.
I clock in and look around. The place is empty. It’s that time of year where school is back in session and so the tourists on the island are gone. It’s going to be a slow day and if the rest of the week is looking like this I for sure won’t be able to pay my rent on time…again. Normally, this fact wouldn’t bother me so much. Things get paid when they can get paid, but today is different. My “friend” is coming to visit so therefore I’m suffering of multi-personality disorder. There is happy me and irritated me. Right now I’m irritated me.
There are four servers scheduled to work today so we definitely won’t make money. I’m thinking about talking one of my co-workers into letting me close for them so that I can make every dollar I can make while here, when I walk into the kitchen and my work hoe says, “Mija, what’s wrong?? I can tell you’re not you.” and she pulls one of my curls that dangles by my ear. I inform her about my “friend” arriving in the next few days and she understands. I mean it is the one thing that no matter what kind of girl you are, we can all relate on this one issue. So she got me, or so I thought.
A couple hours pass and although I’ve only had a few tables I am exhausted. Another one of the many crappy symptoms of this desired yet annoying monthly visit. It’s 10:30 am and since I did end up talking my co-worker into letting me close (which really didn’t take much talking) I still had about 5 hours left. No matter which way I looked at it, today was a no win-win situation.
I clear the empty plates off my only table and run them to the overflowing bus tub. I do this of course, while getting their nasty, double-dipped, ketchup all over my fingers. One of my biggest peeves at work. I head back into the kitchen and wash my hands. As I walk back to the trash bin, throw out the paper towel I used to dry my hands and turn around,
I am struck in the face with a steady stream of water. I stand there with my eyes closed for what was probably a millisecond but felt like 5. All I hear are the laughs of my co-workers. My work hoe got me good.
Typically I can appreciate this type of prank. Hell, it’s something I would to her. Today not so much. I opened my eyes and saw her curled against the corner laughing. “Lana!” I yelled half serious half jokingly and as I stormed passed her to grab another paper towel I took the opportunity to slap her hard in the back. I head straight to the ladies room to check on my make-up. I didn’t have much on but I figured my hair already looked a mess, Florida humidity does NOT play, my face should at least look decent. I get to the door, locked. Of fucking course.
I walk back into the kitchen to finish wiping my face. Lana is still back there laughing. “You hit me so hard I think you knocked a lung out!” She says through her giggles. “Good!!” I say “I can’t believe you hosed me in the face! The FACE! I still have the entire day to go and not only do I feel like shit but now I look like shit!” She begins to laugh harder, “Oh shut up. You got me back good with that hit. Plus, you always look like shit.” It took all of my strength to not hurt her. I was so annoyed. It was like my blood was turning into little annoyed rage bubbles that were expanding through my veins. I had to walk away.
I spent the next hour refocusing my energy on cleaning and taking care of what few tables I had coming in. I needed to distract my hormone ridden mind and decompress. I knew what I felt earlier was an over reaction. Normally I wouldn’t have cared. Lana and I had joked around like this every day since the day we met. Today was no different. Yea maybe she ruined my make-up and didn’t feel sorry about it. Who cares!? Isn’t that what friendships are all about??
Guilt started to set in. I felt like a douche for reacting the way I did.
I get sat another table but before I head over to greet them, I run back into the kitchen, head straight towards Lana and give her the biggest hug. I seriously squeeze the shit out of her. I then plant a huge kiss on her cheek and say sorry for being a twat. She laughs, “Will you just get your period already!!” she says. I smile back at her and head out to see what measly tip I can incur from my new table.
For the rest of the day I felt amazing. The restaurant never got busy. I ended up walking out earlier than anticipated and even though I still wasn’t my super cheery self, I still walked out feeling alright. Sure my body was getting ready to bleed for god knows how many days this time around, but one thing was for sure, it felt good having someone in my life like Lana. A person who can hose me in the face when I’m feeling down and even through the rage I still have love for. It’s those small little relationships that people constantly overlook and take for granted. The fact that as human beings we feel a range of emotions, one of them the feeling of guilt, speaks loudly of human consciousness and once we take the steps, human kindness.
I love my Lana. She taught me a valuable lesson that day, or a lesson I had once been taught but she reinforced. Sometimes just simply saying sorry can be the best spa treatment you could ever give yourself.