Friday, February 13, 2009
Last night, I made plans to go out with a friend from work and meet up with a coworker who bartends at this place called Sweets. Sandwiched between Funky Murhphy's and a seedy alley, is a tiny bakery with luscious treats. Towards the back of the tiny storefront and behind some velvety curtains is a funky, modern, club with square furniture made from black leather, dim but trendy lighting, and a menu that offers boozey treats like the cocktails I sampled. Misty is a bowl full of crazy, but it's really hard not to warm up to her, especially when she makes such a tasty Raspberry Almond Truffle Martini. OMG....Omg. O.M.G. I loved it. I also enjoyed a Butterfinger Martini with extra chocolate. Super pricey, I was lucky to make it out of there for less than $20. I wish I could've spent more time with Misty, but Nancy and I chatted and gossipped and bitched about work. I love my job. I love working with the people here. But I'm coming to realize that there are different standards for different staff. There are staff in my room that bust their asses, do their best, and constantly catch flack. I've learned I have to guard what I say. No more gossipping- which doesn't belong at work anyway, stop blogging about work at work, always be cool and casual, and never speak up if I see something I don't like). I don't think I'll wind up like Nancy, though. I have the shrewd ability to keep my mouth shut whether I want to or not and make waves. Man, I miss that truffle martini.