$ MONEY $ MONEY $ MONEY $
If Job #2 scratches my back (lets me have time off for Africa), then I’ll scratch their back (train new people). Yesterday, I trained this sweet, all-American girl from the Inland Empire who had soft brown eyes and a master’s degree in education. She wants to be a music teacher. She’s totally the type of girl I’d date if she were a gay man.
”He was mean,” she said about the ex she recently moved in with, but bailed after a week when she realized it wasn’t working out. “He was self-conscious about being short and would try to make it my fault by saying things like, ‘You’re just too tall.’ Ugh, he was…gross.”
I’ve been talking about my Tunisian trip a lot lately. Actually, it’s all I talk about. So much in fact that the other day Nixxx came up to the service bar and overheard me telling a guest how I plan on staying in the Dubai airport for the first layover, but on the way back I’ll probably take advantage of the free room my travel agent hooked me up with, when she said, “Oh Lord. Not this story again. If I have to hear about Tunisia one more time, I’m gonna…”
“What?” I asked. “You’re gonna what? Now get out of here. Scram, beat it!”
She grabbed her drink and slithered away.
“So anyway,” I said as I put the woman’s change in her left hand. In her right hand she had a hundred dollar bill.
“Have fun in Tunisia,” she said as she passed it to me.
“Whoa,” I said like Kit De Luca did when Vivienne handed her a wad of cash at the end of Pretty Woman. “That’s so generous of you. Thank you so much! You have no idea how helpful this is.” I quickly threw it in my stainless steel champagne bucket with the rest of my tips. “Have you been to Tunisia before?”
”I’m from around that area,” she said with a wink then collected her Cartier and David Yurman bags and walked out.
Fuck yeah woman from somewhere in North Africa! Looks like I’m back on track to buying that nugget of gold in Dubai.