Long Day

Its almost 2am. I got home thirty minutes ago from work. I have been up since 7am. Meaning, that in five hours I will have been awake for 24hours and I haven't had a day off since Tuesday of last week. Crazy right? Today I worked a double shift. I opened the restaurant at 9:30am and was back there again at midnight, unloading things from a catering party in Connecticut that I and the Head Chef manned. The event was fun. There were close to 200 of the richest happy Americans I have ever met. They all sported great cloths and noses. The best that money could buy. The event was at a really posh nature reserve out in the sticks. They had fund raising auctions for items that the local children had crafted. I am not sure what they put in the water out there but these kids were fucking talented. You should have seen the four impressionist works up for grabs that fourth graders had created. This shit was prepubescent Van-Gogh. The center made a lot of money and everyone had fun throwing their money around to out bid their local rivals. I think, that I was the only person of color there. Except for a rich Indian man attending the event. I looked a bit out of place. I was the token Hispanic yielding the tray of yummy goods. I was sporting a fade, my head is shaved 1/4 inch short, a goatee, a chin strap, a red Yankees ball hat, and a kitchen uniform. You know that I stood out. These people were straight from a world were Lassie, Leave it to Beaver, The Brady Bunch, and every other 50's goodie two shoes program only aired. They were all smiles, conversations and alcohol. I spoke their language and adapting quickly, I had quite a few Heinekens which I downed with little sips, in between running around heating, plating, and running food to the ravenous crowd. The whole damn quaint mega mansion town reeked of the American dream, new money and trust funds. Everything was nicely decorated and much thought put into each and every detail. By the way rich White women can bake their asses off. Yummy! Dr. Atkins would have had a stroke in this place there were baked goods all over this bad boy, not to mention all the scrumptious food we catered. This group would have made Martha Stewart's nipples hard. It was like walking into a scene from one of Martha's magazines or an HGTV Sunday night special. It was a constant fast paced non-stop gig but I did manage a few moments here and there for, yummy food, beers, laughs. I will pay for it dearly, once my alarm rings in four hours to get back to work for an early morning brunch shift. I need the money though, My school books and supplies have cost an arm and a leg and I when I head off to Miami in two weeks, I will miss work and need the extra cash