Two-fer

I walked into the bar innocently enough, only to be immediately hollered at by Brandi.
Brandi: Hey, Ali. I gotta talk to you about the party last week.
Her tone of voice was one I recognized. This was her pissed-off voice. I braced myself for Brandi to be unhappy with me.
Brandi: I just want you to know I didn't rat you out.
A who-to-the-what now?
Brandi: Yeah, your mom wasn't very happy that you left early. I told her...
Then she launched into a tirade about the foolishness of the owners, who were unhappy that I went home instead of standing uselessly about, and who apparently gave Brandi an earful about it while Brandi told them to get over it. Well, that's the jist, anyhow.

A couple things impressed me:
1. Brandi's enthusiasm in defending me.
2. Her concern that I thought she might have tattled on me (which would never have crossed my mind, she's not that type)
3. The fact that the owners who were unhappy with me decided to discuss it with Brandi, not me.

Let's face it, I'm leaving. I think the owners realize what that means. Doesn't mean they like it, but, really, what'd be the point about talking to me about it?

Which brings me to the next coworker highlight. After a conference with Laura about why the hell was I working Wednesday? we changed the schedule so I wasn't. Thus, I'm home tonight instead of waiting on people. This is good.

This is very good. On Friday night I didn't like people. Unfortunately, I served a great many of them. Without going into details, we'll just say that I was not at the top of my game.

The highlight of the whole night? Knowing I'd only have one more shift to work, not two.