Ok, so yesterday, I went in to work in the middle of the night, worked for three-and-a-half hours, made a nice little score, saw a couple of my favorite ladies, and came home by five am.
I tried to stay up until seven and head to the polls, but then I figured there would be a line and I had the entire day off, so I let myself fall asleep till around noon. I got back up, drove on down to my precinct, and ran the voter intimidation gauntlet they had set up outside the gymnasium at the school where I vote. Nope, it wasn't the black panther thugs and their billy-clubs like in Philadelphia, it was a bunch of kids and soccer milfs selling candy, hotdogs, popcorn, and sodas to raise money for the high-school musical next spring.
I dropped 'em a couple of bucks and took a can of Coke with me, and thought about going out for some Vietnamese food for lunch to tip my hat to Grumpy John and his five years of hard time--I had a feeling I was about to do four of my own... That thought kinda killed my appetite, so I just skipped lunch altogether and came back home. I tried watching TV, reading, dozing, but nothing seemed to work. I even tried some online poker, but the servers were running slow, so I un-registered myself from the tournament I'd signed up for.
Thinking I needed to get my sleep schedule adjusted for my upcoming graveyard shifts, I turned off the lights and the TV around six or so. At 6:55 pm, that familiar poker-room ring was going off right next to my head, asking if I could come in and work for a few hours. Oh hell yeah I could--I told 'em I'd be there before the 7:30 dealer push.
We had four games going, and luckily one of them was a nice no-limit game. There were only five dealers on hand including myself, so that meant two straight hours in the box, followed by a half hour break, then lather, rinse, and repeat. I made really good money while I was there, but at 10:30, they broke my 4/8 game, meaning that I'd get sent home by 11. Right about that time, the floor guy freaked out a little, asking me "Why didn't you tell me you already worked today!?!?!?". I said that I was on the top of the daily schedule, showing that I'd already worked this morning, and since it was swamped, I was doing a split shift.
He hadn't noticed, for some reason, but just the other day I had a talk with the boss and she said it was cool for me to work split shifts. I explained that to him, but I think he thought he was gonna get in trouble for having me come back in, like it was overtime or something. I don't know about that, but I sure as hell wasn't going to turn down a shift, especially a juicy swing-shift opportunity. The bottom line is that I worked another four hours, doubled up on what I made that morning, and was pretty happy that I had the chance to go in and make some good money.
Oh, and the first person I saw when I got there, my gal Michelle, the very first cocktail waitress in this town to ever offer me her phone number. She works the same shift as Kimmy, and I hadn't seen her in a couple of months, either. So that was like another little bonus.
Anyhow, after work, I came home, turned on the TV and saw the news, and proceeded to kill about a half a bottle of rum. Even worse, while at work, I could feel the tingle in my throat, and by the time I got home, I had a full-on head cold--sore throat and sinus congestion. I took a hot-as-I-could-stand-it shower, took some medicine and now here I am, still wide awake. The rum is not helping.
I have to go back in to work tonight at 1 am. I hope I'm feeling a little better by then, but right now, I'm a mouth-breather with a headache.
Mikey
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