I went to the country club today and soaked up the sun poolside. I'm rather fond of my afternoons at the club. Poolside waitresses, grilled cheese lunches, enough bottled water to last a lifetime, and teenage girls in bikinis (I won't lie to you. I still find them attractive). I'm quite remiss that, as is the case with all country clubs, the pool closes after Labor Day. Woe is me.

Tonight I work. I've started mouthing off to rude guests, and I know that when my manager finds out, I'll get a stern talking to. True, I need the money. True, any job is hard to come by these days. True, I need to learn to be more agreeable in conflict. God, you'd think I'd been brainwashed. All waiters/servers are part of a strange, degrading cult. Anyone telling you otherwise is in denial.