December 31, 2005/January 1, 2006

I spent Christmas and New Year's with my family in Alberta. My father found me a little work while I was there. He has a friend who owns a bar who needed an extra waitress for new year's eve. I absolutely hate waitressing but I needed the money. I was told I could make a couple hundred in tips, well worth the agony.
Now here's what actually happened:
I was told to be at a 2pm staff meeting. I show up and no other staff members are there. The owner is busy setting up the stage. There are a couple strangers loitering at the bar. A girl offers me a cup of coffee. I say yes and she pours me what's left in the pot. I end up with half a cup of luke warm bitter coffee, but I am grateful to have something to do with my hands while I wait. I find a seat and begin staring out the window suddenly wishing I had brought a book to read. 40 painful minutes pass. The owner finally comes up to me and says that if no-one shows up soon, I can leave. He chats with me about what to expect that evening. 5-10 more minutes pass and staff members (all three) start showing up. There is a 5 minute discussion about who's doing what and the meeting is over. My father had promised me earlier that he would pick me up but it's clear at this point that he's lost track of time. I can't bare to wait around any longer so I decide to walk to my father's house, hoping he's there since I don't have keys. When I finally get there he's not and I'm locked out. Thankfully he arrives shortly after. I am in a very bad mood.
I arrive for my shift that evening and instead of waitressing I'm told to watch the door for the owner. I'm told that I will only be doing this temporarily while the owner takes care of a few things and later on I will have a chance to make some tip money waitressing. I sit there all night. A strange drunk boy sits next to me for a little while, selling band merchandise, and proceeds to spill red wine all over me. The charge at the door is $25 and EVERY person who enters complains and wants a discount. Midnight comes and goes. Finally a waitress says she was told I could go home. I am desperate to get out of there, the owner is nowhere to be found, so I leave. I figure he'll just pay me later. Days pass. The time comes for me to go back to Vancouver. My father promises he'll get the money and pays me the equivalent of $10 an hour for the work I did so that I don't go home empty handed. In the end it turns out one of the girls waitressing stole most of the tips that night and the owner ended up getting stitches after a drunk customer bit him in the cheek. When my father finally gets the money from him it is only $20 more than what he had already given me.
I've never liked New Year's.