Happy Hyatt Holiday Party™, shaving woes, etc.

The happy Hyatt holiday party went well, despite having to work it. I requested bar-tending duty upon arrival, but was met with an order to shave, as fat Luis, the general-manager was expected to be there. I was instructed to go down to the vending machine and purchase, for $1, a disposable razor with a small pouch of shaving-cream. Obviously I should have known better than to waste my dollar. I slathered on the meager and second-rate shaving-cream, which was utterly useless in protecting me from the fury of the disposable Bic. I want to meet the man who decided to market cheap plastic razors with a strip of blunt aluminum foil instead of actual blades. He should be sentenced to shaving with a butter knife for the rest of his god-forsaken life. In any event, I attempted unsuccessfully to shave for less than a minute, until the pain of removing my epidermis but no actual hair became far too great. With a hail of vitriolic curses, I then threw the razor in the garbage and made a mad dash for my car. I ran as fast as I could without slipping in the slush and sprawling myself all over the side-walk, and cursed Dave Matthew's six tour buses for making it well-nigh impossible to see around in order to cross Broad St.

After coming back to B-18 to use my superior razor and soothing shaving gel, I bolted back to the Hyatt. I had neglected to shave my upper lip, since it's technically not necessary, and I now have a thin, short moustache, like the nits in high school shop class grew. I also changed my shoes while I was home, as I had donned white socks and a pair of navy blue canvas sneakers. I figured I could at least dress down for my own company's party, but I decided not to risk fucking off in front of fat Luis.

For the first hour or so of the party, I mostly milled around and visited with my co-workers. I occasionally cleared a couple plates and carried some booze to the bar, but mostly I just stood around & mingled. About halfway through James, one of the other servers/bartenders, brought out a bottle of New Zealand sauvignon blanc, and I had a glass of that. Shortly there-after I assumed control over one of the 2 bars, where I stayed for the remainder of the party. By the end of the night I had actually made upwards of $20 in tips, which I'm surprised about. I figured nobody would tip us. The bartenders especially took care of me, and a couple guys actually gave me a $5 bill after they had a few drinks in them. Nothing loosens up the pocket-book like a little sauce. By the end of the night I was also half-caked since I had served myself a few beers while I was tending bar. The price of 4 cheap beers was an aggrivating head-ache this morning though. Someday I'll actually remember why I don't drink cheap beer.

Practice is coming along slowly, and I still don't have my piano final tunes or scales down satisfactory. Which makes me wonder why I'm on the computer instead of practicing. Bah! Away with you all... quit distracting me! I'm off to practice, then to jacoda practice, which is very inconvenient this week, then the ever-lovely Tatiana is dropping by for an evening visit. At least part of this day will be worth having gotten up for...