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So thankful that the most aggressive sexual assault I’ve experienced was when I was not intoxicated, the perpetrator was, and the bartenders were quick to act in my defense. Here’s to a day when me saying “no” means more than the man behind the bar threatening to cut you off and kick you out. I sure do hate to say it, but please take care of yourselves, ladies.

http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2014/03/03/285307535/mens-drinking-isnt-the-driver-of-sexual-aggression-in-bars?ft=1&f=1001&utm_source=npr&utm_campaign=nprnews&utm_medium=twitter

11:49 pm, BY thebestisforthebest

07:00 pm, BY thebestisforthebest[61 notes]

quote

Of the genius waitress, I now sing.

Of hidden knowledge, buried ambition, and secret sonnets scribbled on cocktail napkins; of aching arches, ranting cooks, condescending patrons, and eyes diverted from ancient Greece to ancient grease; of burns and pinches and savvy and spunk; of a uniquely American woman living a uniquely American compromise, I sing. I sing of the genius waitress.

Okay, okay, she’s probably not really a genius. But she is well-educated. She has a degree in Sanskrit, ethnoastronomy, Icelandic musicology, or something equally valued in contemporary marketplace. Even if she could find work in her chosen field, it wouldn’t pay beans—so she slings them instead. (The genius waitress is not to be confused with the aspiring-actress waitress, so prevalent in Manhattan and Los Angeles and so different from her sister in temperament and I.Q.)

As a type, the genius waitress is sweet and sassy, funny and smart; young, underestimated, fatalistic, weary, cheery (not happy, cheerful: there’s a difference and she understands it), a tad bohemian, often borderline alcoholic, frequently pretty (though her hair reeks of kitchen and bar); as independent as a cave bear (though ever hopeful of “true love”) and, above all, genuine.
Covertly sentimental, she fusses over toddlers and old folks, yet only fear of unemployment prevents her from handing an obnoxious customer his testicles with his bill.

She doesn’t mind a little good-natured flirting, and if you flirt with verve and wit, she may flirt back. Never, however, never try to impress her with your resume. Her tolerance for pretentious Yuppies ends with her shift, sometimes earlier. She reads men like a menu and always knows when she’s being offered leftovers or an artificially inflated soufflé.

Should you ever be lucky enough to be taken home by her to that studio apartment with the jerry-built bookshelves and Frida Kahlo posters, you will discover that whereas in the public dining room she is merely as proficient as she needs to be, in the private bedroom she is blue gourmet virtuoso. Five stars and counting! Afterward, you can discuss chaos theory or the triple aspects of the mother goddess in universal art forms—while you massage her swollen feet.

Eventually, she leaves food service for graduate school or marriage; but unless she wins a grant or a fair divorce settlement, chances are she’ll be back, a few years down the line, reciting the daily specials with her own special mixture of warmth and ennui.

Erudite emissary of eggs over easy, polymath purveyor of polenta and prawns, articulate angel of apple pie, the genius waitress is on duty right now in hundreds of U.S. restaurants, smile at the ready, sauce on the side. So brush up on your Schopenhauer, place your order—and tip, mister, tip. She deserves a break today.

Of her, I sing.

Tom Robbins

Playboy, 1991

(via ruisenora)

I read this when I have a bad day at work and it makes me feel a little bit better about my life. Tips pay my rent, utilities, student loans, medical bills, and bar tabs, because goddamn, I need a drink (or several) after catering to every hoity-toity whim thrown my way. I am a server, NOT a servant, and don’t you forget it.


04:02 am, BY thebestisforthebest[7 notes]

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buttonpoetry:

Joyce Lee - “Mad Love”

"Everything happens for a reason. For instance, I busted the windows out your car so you could get the air I assumed you were talking about when you said I was suffocating you."

Performing as the September feature at the Soap Boxing poetry slam in Saint Paul.

06:11 am, BY thebestisforthebest[852 notes]

photoset

creativemornings:

Food Rules Poster

From the same people who brought us the Holstee Manifesto, the thoughtful people at Holstee rolled out another product that makes you a bit more mindful about the way you live your life.

After discovering this vintage WWI poster by Frederick G. Cooper, they refreshed the design and now this original poster released by the U.S. Food Administration is available as a letterpress print on beautiful Reich Savoy Natural White paper.

Pick one up here and watch co-founder Fabian Pfortmüller’s talk here.

YES. Check out your farmer’s market! Don’t buy in bulk! Fruits and vegetables! Don’t waste! Enjoy cooking!

(Source: creativemornings)

02:07 pm, BY thebestisforthebest[70 notes]

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Adulthood

I may not have a college degree or career or serious significant other or any of those other supposed signifiers of adulthood, but today I paid my rent, ironed some shirts, and ate a wedge salad (and its leftovers!), so that all qualifies me as an adult, right?

03:15 am, BY thebestisforthebest

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soulpancake:

amandaonwriting:

11 Untranslatable Words From Other Cultures

Follow the link to see the rest

What is your favorite word? 

02:56 pm, BY thebestisforthebest[208,611 notes]

photoset

samspratt:

"Bill Cosby" - Illustration by Sam Spratt

It’s been. .. awhile, but it feels great to make something that wasn’t for a client or shrouded in NDAs.

03:07 pm, BY thebestisforthebest[15,194 notes]

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I’m currently being barraged by Facebook messages from a campus group that I’m involved with twice a year, only when they absolutely need my help, asking if October 5th or 26th is a better day for an event.

GUYS, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TIME I GO INTO WORK TOMORROW, SO I SURE AS HELL DON’T KNOW WHAT OCTOBER LOOKS LIKE.

And I like it that way.

01:50 pm, BY thebestisforthebest

picture HD

(via soulpancake)

02:42 pm, BY thebestisforthebest[100 notes]