Still can't sleep... God I'm exhausted.

So today was interesting. It was Easter, and I think this is the only Easter of my life where I haven't gone to church. I worked a double shift today that started at 11:00, so I wouldn't have been able to go anywhere. It was pretty frustrating, though, because I ended up only getting one table for the entire morning; they called ahead to make sure they would have a table, and I got assigned to their table. Then they were late by about a half hour. Then they sat and talked for an hour after they had paid. And when I finally went to pick up their check, I found that they had only given me a 9% tip. That's $18 out of a $200 bill. For three hours of work, with them being my only table. Works out to about six dollars an hour, and that's really frustrating. Especially considering that Friday night I was making closer to sixteen dollars an hour. I should have gone to church.

After I came back from my hour long break (I'd call it lunch, but I didn't actually eat, so it was just a break), things got better pretty quickly. There were some Spanish speaking people waiting at the hostess stand when I went to check in, and I talked to them for a little bit using my mad Costa Rican Spanish skills, and found out from a lady that there was a convention for some Hispanic church in Waco that had brought people in from as far as Mexico City (she told me which church, but I didn't know the word and now I don't remember it).

Not ten minutes later, I just happened to get a table with a family (mom, dad, five year old kid) who had worse English than I have Spanish. So I got really, really excited. At first the dad, who spoke very broken English, tried to order in English, but then I told him that I could speak Spanish if he would prefer (in Spanish, thank you sir). He suddenly looked very relieved, and I got to spend the better part of an hour speaking only Spanish. I can't tell you how good that felt; I haven't spoken that much Spanish since I got to the airport on my way out of Costa Rica.

So anyway, short story long, the family was impressed with me. The kid and I bonded over talking about how much we liked bread and butter (seriously, he really, really likes bread and butter), and the dad and mom liked that I gave them good service as well as tried to speak to them in their own language. The kid even gave me the ultimate compliment by assuming that I didn't speak English (he asked me how I could work in this restaurant if I only spoke Spanish [Como puedes trabajar aqui si no hablas ingles?]). That was freakin' sweet. They ended up leaving me a 40% tip. After they had left, I felt better than I have in almost a week.

Well, at least for awhile. Then the regular ol' grumpy Americans started coming in again and I had to deal with people who didn't care that I spoke good English, they just wanted their food and they wanted it five minutes ago. And where the hell were those lemons they asked the busboy for? That would be coming out of my tip, etc. etc. That pretty much put me back where I had been before, but it was nice while it had lasted.

Also, the kitchen staff now knows that I have good Spanish and so have stopped calling me a cabron. That's nice too.

Currently Watching - High Fidelity and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind