Why me? Here's a little backstory.
Having been in the food service industry for over ten years, I don't remember what weekends look like. For me, it's a huge wait list and an endless procession of tables, dishes, stress, and snide comments. For the rest of you, it's bottomless mimosas, block parties and flea markets.
My weekends consist of Monday and Tuesday. Sunday nights find the streets bare, with everyone home, nursing their early evening hangover. And though I often bitch about drinking on the weekends, with the amateurs, there is a lot to be said about going to a bar where there are actually people there, rather than the sad-sack crew I see on Monday afternoons (no offense guys. You know I love you!). Restaurants and museums are usually closed, I can guarantee, it will be damned near impossible to find bottomless mimosas, and I haven't been to a flea market in at least fifteen years.
The sting: seven am, Sunday morning. Exhausted, grouchy, slow to get out of bed, dreading work, I check my facebook to see the endless photos and posts from your glorious Saturdays; the street fairs and festivals planned for Sunday.
But this is unsustainable! Like all negative sensations, all a girl should really have to do is just wash that shit right out of her hair! Broken hearts get mended with new dresses and haircuts, right? So, my pathetic life can be made glorious by a simple acceptance of my fate! Though my streets are bare on my days off, I never have to stand in line. I get the cherished table in the most coveted restaurant, usually with no wait. In Oregon, they offer Service Industry deals every Sunday and Monday, meaning you can drink for at least half off. But here, in our fair city, the best comeuppance is the absolute jealousy I seem to inspire in all my regular-weekender friends. Their weekends are allowed to be tortuously decadent, but seeing a post by me, bragging about listening to mix tapes with my sissy on our way to Sonoma for wine tasting, is enough to set them on edge.
Guess what? This is just the beginning.
Welcome to Manic Monday.
Typically, I'm hung over, surly, and ready to get my day drink on. I start early, usually with brunch or a quick snack, and then, either alone, with my pug, or friends nearby, I hit the streets. And typically we do everything, from uber-touristy bullshit to dive bar drinking, normal neighborhood things to do, or getting out of the city. But no matter what, it's always new (at least to us), it's always a blast, and it's always documented on Instagram (#whitneyloulou).
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