Waitress job near me

I've decided to write a short "song" based loosely on my experience on this subreddit during my lunch break, enjoy!
(Verse) I've had a bit to drink, Somebody turned on the sink, Oh shit a sound came frome my phone!
Notified someone has said, Wonder if they're actually dead, Followed by a theory they now drone!
(Chorus) Back to work- do your job! Bored of labor- just wait till later! But i can't just leave it at this, I'll be right back im take-ing a piss!
(Verse) Sugar and caffine in my control, Hyperactive thonk as i stroll, One liners and bullshit i shall throw!
Theories are full in swing, Something funny occurs to me, Participating so tempting. I think I'll discuss lore with thee!
(Chorus) Bathroom break- Long it takes! But we discuss- and give no fucks! Our discussion a grim abyss, they dont know but im take-ing the piss!

So I’ve never liked jewellery ever since I was a young girl. I have never worn a necklace and don’t plan on doing it. But even though jewellery makes me uncomfortable, it is nothing compared to how threads make me feel.
Even touching or being near one makes me feel like puking. And i’ve felt this way since I was a child. This is a weird thing and I’ve never met anyone who could relate.

I parked in the tower's lot, letting my headlights bore into the amalgam of twisted metal and glass for a few moments before shutting them off.
Josh muttered, his voice low. "We're really doing this, huh?"
He ran a hand through his mop of curly hair— a dumb tic he developed last summer when his girlfriend, Annabeth, told him it was sexy. She was beside him now, cuddled up in the backseat across his lap.
I glanced at my own girlfriend, Ellie, in the passenger seat. She was trying her damndest to appear brave, but I knew better. There was no way she was comfortable with trespassing tonight.
I sighed, realizing that Josh would also chicken out.
"We're doing this? You sure you want to come?" I prodded.
Josh shifted in his seat, hand running through his hair yet again. "Maybe it's better if I stay in the truck.”
Annabeth shrugged next to him, unsurprised.
"Me, too,” Ellie chimed in, nodding at Josh.
Annabeth met my eyes, a glimmer of understanding passing between us. Our partners were both boring, god-awful goody two shoes.
"Pussies," I jabbed, swinging open my door without giving them a moment to respond.
Annabeth hopped out behind me, waving at the two losers in the truck before spinning towards me with a grin on her face.
"They're weird," she said, rolling her eyes.
For a moment, I was drinking in the way her golden hair shimmered in the moonlight. A light breeze tickled at our faces, sending sparkles of her moon-lit hair between us.
"Yup," I mustered.
I turned, strolling towards the chain link fence that formed a circular perimeter around the base of Sabe's Tower.
Sabe’s Tower. Thirteen stories of abandoned potential, whispering of times past when our town's inhabitants thought we'd hit a population boom, becoming the Houston of West Virginia. In the 70s, our success was tied to coal. Jobs flooded in, and with them, a myriad of people trying to make their way in life. Then the mines abruptly ran dry, decimating our town's economy. Since that time, our population has done nothing but dwindle.
Sabe’s Tower. Thirteen stories of decaying grandeur, silently rotting from the inside out. Some say that's what happened to Sabe himself— a rot took hold in his core, spreading and spreading until nothing but rot was left. In the end, he took his own life, which some say was for the best. He was a greedy fool, the wealthiest man for miles, owning half the surrounding countryside before the mining industry took off. Made a fortune selling his family's land to coal companies, putting every ounce of profit into making his towering hotel more luxurious than a Ritz Carlton.
Sabe’s Tower. Thirteen stories of failed dreams, now screaming vulgar obscenities at our eyes. It is a truly ugly behemoth, domineering our town's skyline with unmerited arrogance. Sabe thought painting the tower purple would give it an air of majesty, like royalties of the past, swaddled in silky lavender robes. His aspiration, after all, was nothing less than to emulate the sacred Tabernacle of Moses, to make his hotel a dwelling place for gods among men. In its current state of disrepair, however, the tower was no more than an eyesore— a visual cacophony of broken glass, peeling sickly-purple paint, and rusted steel inlays.
Adding to the hotel's disgrace, it was cylindrical in form, perched atop the highest peak for miles, jutting into the sky like a middle finger to the gods. Its phallic outline stood in stark contrast to the run-down strip malls lying in its wake.
The fence surrounding it was a bit too tall and a bit too wobbly to safely scale, so we circled, looking for an entry point. Every few yards, a DO NOT TRESPASS sign hung, tied to the fence with zip-ties in each corner. Someone had taken the liberty to spray paint a word underneath each sign, now making them all read:
DO NOT TRESPASS ALONE.
"Good thing you're coming with me," I joked, pointing at one of the signs.
Annabeth paused to read it for a moment. "Yeah... kinda weird that someone took their time to do that. I wonder why?"
I shrugged, continuing around the perimeter.
Eventually, we found a gate in the fence, held closed with chains at waist level. The gate's post careened steeply outward, creating a manageable gap near the top. The gate post was only held in place by the chains, not even slightly anchored to the ground. Without too much of a struggle, we hoisted ourselves up and through the gap.
Once inside the fence, I found myself spellbound by the abandoned hotel. The stars in the night sky reflected across the windows, bending and warping around the curved perimeter. Each glimmer of starlight turned into dizzying fractals, melding together and slipping between the shards of broken glass with each redirection of my gaze.
The result was honestly breathtaking.
At night, the eyesoriffic tower was beautiful. Its silhouette dared to embrace the star-studded cosmos, standing with a quiet dignity that defied its daytime mockery.
I felt Annabeth shuffle beside me.
Suddenly, her phone flashlight was on, illuminating a path through overgrown concrete to the tower. At the end of the path was the structure’s entrance— a gaping hole with no attempt to conceal the darkness within.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" I yelled, spinning to face her.
"W... What do you mean?" she stuttered.
"Turn that off, you idiot," I explained, lowering my voice. "Someone might see the light and call the cops."
The light flicked off, Annabeth mumbling apologies.
I blinked away the afterimage of weeds eating through the concrete lot, silently cursing myself for being so ridiculously hostile toward her.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"You're good, Donovan" she whispered, brushing her hand across my arm.
As we continued to the open doorway, the outside of the tower came into focus. It was far further dilapidated than I had realized— each accent of purple paint, faded and peeling, was bulging out from between the glass and steel like it was trying to escape. I rubbed a fingernail on the paint, revealing a soft, rotting wood beneath.
I entered the tower first, pausing to let my eyes adjust. The darkness of the doorway opened up into an atrium that must have once made for a magnificent entrance. It was shaped like a slice of pie, us standing near the crust, peering inward toward the center. Above was pitch black, not yielding any answers to just how high up this mighty room's ceiling stretched.
The musty scent that filled my nose was surprisingly welcoming— somewhere between the smell of fishing trips and century old bookstores. I took a deep breath, relishing in the soft stench.
I could vaguely make out wires dangling down from the ceiling of the atrium. They were impossibly long, stretching upward into the infinite gloom.
"They look like vines," Annabeth whispered, her voice a soft purr.
The air was thick with falling dust, filtering down from the abyss above, twirling between the wires in satisfyingly slow-motion. The falling dust made it even harder to see in the dark, leaving the walls on either side of the room foggy blobs. I waved my hand, sending fleeting dust spirals through the air.
I remembered seeing photos of the atrium online, taken on some of the earliest digital cameras ever made. Those pictures showed marble countertops, intricate wooden carvings, and lushly carpeted floors.
The room, as it stands today, is a barren husk of Sabe's vision. The carpet, only present in scattered clumps, was impossibly dark, soiled to the point of true black. It clung to the concrete foundation, viciously holding on for dear life in a losing battle.
I bent down to examine a clump of carpet in front of me, amazed by the absence of light reflecting back. It was like staring into a pit of nothing, a vague absence, an outline of something that should be there.
I poked the toe of my boot at it.
FPOOSH.
It exploded, erupting into my face.
I gagged instinctively, tasting the vile substance mix into my lungs. Annabeth slapped my back as I continued gagging and coughing, begging the mucus to tear itself free from my lungs and just fucking get out of my body because it feels like I'm dying oh GOD.
And eventually, it did.
The violent hacking subsided into slight wretching, then was gone.
"Are you okay?" Annabeth tested.
Do you think I'm fucking okay?
"What the fuck was that?" I spewed.
She bent over the clump of carpet. Underneath the blackened top layer that just violently erupted was a pale network of matted spiderwebs.
"Hmm..." she began, "It kind of looks like mycelium."
She met my raised eyebrow with an eye roll.
"You know, like the roots of a fungus or some shit, I don't know. I just saw the shrooms growing in Bryce's closet that one time he showed me his stash. This white stuff looks just like it. So I guess that makes this black stuff like the part of the shroom we eat, or whatever."
"Oh dip," I responded, nodding. "That makes sense. One time I saw a nature show about some plants that shoot their seeds everywhere when something touches them. It's probably just spreading its spores when we touch it."
"Yeah," she breathed, "pretty gnarly."
We shuffled deeper into the gloom, weaving between dangling cables and clumps of fungus. I felt a drop of moisture flick off a cable, sliding onto my arm.
I groaned. "Fuck. That cable was wet."
"Disgusting," she whispered back.
We made our way to the apex of the room, the center of the tower, revealing a rusted set of elevator doors leaning together like drunks at a quinceanera. The doorway to the stairs, however, beckoned to us with the same unobstructed, pitch-black allure that the tower's entrance emanated just minutes before.
In the dark, it's truly amazing how utterly void all open doorways look.
Upon stepping inside the stairwell, the world vanished. The only proof of having working eyes was a faint, vertical glow of light filtering through the door, abruptly fading into all-consuming black.
Every sound in the entire building bored through my soul, bouncing from wall to wall, ceiling to floor, echoing on and on for all of eternity. It was like the stairwell, directly in the center of the decrepit hotel, was the focal point of every creaking floorboard, every popping nail, every howling gust of wind. It was as if I was holding up a monstrous conch shell to my ear— a deafening murmur of echoes in disarray, smelting together to form satanic harmonies.
"Whoa," Annabeth mumbled.
Her word cut through the other echoes, impossibly loud against their monotonous hum.
Instantly, the echo of her voice filled the stairwell, rising like the build up of a dubstep song until peaking, impossibly overwhelming for a few brief seconds. The echoes of her voice then faded as quickly as they arrived.
She put a hand to her mouth, the whites of her eyes barely visible in the glow coming from the doorway.
I reached out, placing a comforting hand where her shoulder should be. There was not enough space for us to stand abreast in the stairwell, leaving us in a comically squished proximity. She was breathing rapidly, barely managing to stay silent. I squeezed, and her breathing quickly slowed. I felt her hand creep onto mine, and we stood for a minute, simply listening to the cries of the dying building echo around us.
As my eyes adjusted, I could make out a staircase spiraling up the curved wall. Clearly this was a service stairwell, as it is much too cramped for the likes of Sabe's guests. Only a few steps were visible through the darkness at a time, making the staircase feel even tinier than it already was. Luckily, no fungus grew on the stairs themselves, leaving the metal alone to rust.
Annabeth shuffled onto the first step, producing a small object from her pocket. She handed it to me, then pointed up the stairwell, careful to not send echoes through the cylindrical chamber again.
I brought it close to my eyes for inspection, straining against the lack of light.
A joint...
She wants to go to the roof and smoke.
A smile cracked my lips. Classic Annabeth.
Every couple stairsteps, there would be a doorway. Most of them let in a dim glow, offering a glimpse into what must have once been a custodial closet on each floor.
On floor 9, I tugged at Annabeth's hand. We made eye contact in the faint light coming from the doorway. I motioned through it, pointing to the nearly fungus free floor. I wanted to explore at least a little bit, to see if the closet circled around the stairwell or not.
I poked my head through the doorway, freeing myself from the overwhelming cacophony of echoes in the stairwell.
I verified that the closet did, in fact, curve around the circular staircase like a donut. A few steps in one direction led to a terrifying drop— the elevator shaft. Next to it, a sidewalk sized ledge led to an open door, giving a view of the floor's main hallway. The path looked safe— no fungus, cracks, or otherwise obvious defects— so I proceeded, treading as light as a fox, fumbling for Annabeth's hand behind me.
The main hallway ran between the custodial closet and the guest rooms, creating another donut ring around the central stairwell. Throughout the hallway, patches of fungus grew alarmingly close together, threatening to overtake the concrete.
"That stairwell was insane," Annabeth whispered.
I nodded. "Fuck yeah, I wonder what it was like when the hotel was actually open. Must have been miserable for the staff."
We weaved through the fungus filled hallway, coming to room 901. I glanced at Annabeth, raising my eyebrows. The door was slightly ajar, hanging from its one remaining door hinge. I pushed gently, eliciting a monstrous creak.
The room was empty, extending away to the outside in a familiar pie shape. The mold seemed to grow thinner in the room, leaving most of the exposed concrete safe to cross. At the far side, a floor to ceiling panel of windows looked out over our town.
I gasped, taking in the view. Never before had I seen our town from this high up. My eyes drew to the smokestacks by the river, their blinking lights ominously flickering over downtown. Individual streets ran in parallel lines away from the tower, lit with yellowing streetlights. Between the roads, tiny lights cast from window panes twinkled, blending with one another into a starscape of their own.
"Dude," I said. "Look at this."
No response.
I spun, looking for Annabeth, frantically scanning the room. My eyes had adjusted to the outside light, leaving me sightless.
"Annabeth," I hissed.
A cold tingle went up my spine, pulling at hairs on the back of my neck.
"Annabeth?"
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
I crept back across the floor, now aware of the entire room at once. There was nowhere for her to be hiding. No desks, cans of paint, ladders, nothing. Just an empty room with patchy fungus growing on the cement.
Something must have happened.
I studied each fungal growth in the room as I passed by. Even with the light cast from the windows, the tops remained impossibly dark. Not a single feature was discernible— only an outline was visible.
Halfway to the door, a three foot wide hole led straight to floor 8. I could have sworn it wasn't there before. I peered into the opening, seeing straight through to the room below. From what I could see, it was identically empty.
"Annabeth," I tried again, nearing the door to the hallway.
"BOO!"
I stumbled backward, tripping over my own feet. I landed squarely on a patch of fungus.
FPOOSH.
I remembered to hold my breath, close my eyes, and plug my nose.
Annabeth cackled from the threshold of the doorway, standing over me with both hands on her forehead.
"You should have seen the look—" she began, breaking off into another fit of laughter.
"Shut up," I groaned, pushing to my feet. My entire body was covered in squishy fungus gunk. I pointed at the hole behind me, continuing. "You could have killed me."
"Blah, blah, blah," she mocked. "You're fine... you're just being a baby."
Annabeth gave me a playful shove, hands lingering for a moment overdue. Swatting her paws off me, I marched back to the stairwell. I led the rest of the way to floor 13, followed by her snickers.
As I reached the top of the stairs and stepped onto the 13th floor, my jaw dropped. It was a scene straight out of a surrealist painting. An enormous pool room lay before us. Glass walls extended up from the tile floors, creating a massive, clear domed perimeter. A swath of stars twinkled brilliantly through the clear ceiling, their light refracting through the glass, casting ethereal patterns onto the room's otherwise bleak surroundings.
The pool itself was a semi-circular cutout covering half the floor space, starting at ground level and deepening in a corkscrew motion. Its ceramic tiles, once probably a bright blue, were now tinged with patches of the same fungal growth we had come across on the lower floors. The growth was sparse here, though, letting the original design of the space take prominence.
In the center of the room— on top of the staircase we just stepped out of— stood a circular pillar that extended up to the middle of the dome, like a spine holding up the entire tower. A small antenna jutted out from above the pillar atop the dome. Surrounding the antenna was a low fence, perhaps a safety measure for maintenance workers.
Annabeth, having finally contained her laughter, stepped beside me, her face illuminated by the soft starlight filtering in through the dome. She too stood silent, taken aback by the unexpected beauty of this forgotten space.
As we moved around the room, our steps echoed across the vast emptiness. With every patch of fungus we passed, the same eerie darkness hovered, the undulating mold standing stark against the ceramic tiles.
We made our way back to the central pillar. A ladder, carved into the central pillar, connected to the glass ceiling with a trapdoor.
"To the roof?" Annabeth sang, rubbing her hands together in a goblin-like motion.
"Ladies first."
As she climbed above me, I couldn't help but crane my neck and drool. She slammed open the trapdoor, and we burst through to the roof.
The fenced-in area was covered with a dark spongy surface, gripping at my knees when I stood up. Wind whipped around us, carrying a chill that cut through my clothes and bit into my skin. With each gust, the antenna above us groaned and swayed, almost as if it were joining in a dance with an unseen partner.
We sat on the squishy rubber surface, comfortably in silence. I met her eyes, smiling dumbly. We passed the joint back and forth until it dwindled down, its ember glow flickering one last time before extinguishing completely. A familiar haze crawled through my thoughts, slowing the passage of time to a languishing crawl.
"Hey..." she started, "I think I've finally found inspiration for my next album."
I scooted closer to her, taking her hand. I knew the topic brought about an unusual timidity in her— a blemish in the badass persona she's so keen on presenting. She won't even talk to her own boyfriend about her music career.
"Yeah?" I floated.
She hesitated for a second, settling into the moment. I felt a tug at my crotch, suddenly all too aware of how pretty she looked in the moonlight. I took in every detail— the way her hair fell across her face, the pattern of her freckles, the soft speckling of stars reflecting across her eyes.
"I think you need to take off your shirt, first, though," she whispered, now inches from my face. "You're filthy."
I glanced down, remembering the fungal gunk that had soiled my clothes when she scared me.
Without warning, her hands slid under my shirt, warm and sure. I helped her yank it off, collapsing into her lips.
***
When we got back to the truck, I was still high enough to see everything in slow motion. Before pulling out of the parking lot, Annabeth and I regurgitated the events of our urban exploration, trying to show our significant others what fun they missed out on. It goes without saying that part of the story was intentionally omitted.
Ellie and Josh were unamused. Their lack of adventure will forever be a mystery to me.
We swung out of the lot, hopping onto the highway headed into town. I swayed between lanes, struggling to keep the double-yellow lines in focus.
"Are you sure you're good to drive?" Ellie asked, gripping the armrest.
"I'm fine," I slurred.
Seconds later, another truck materialized in front of us. I swerved to avoid it, then everything went black.
***
I woke up to a strong hand pulling me out of the window. My truck was upside down, the roof completely caved in.
I groaned. "Aww... fuck...."
The person who pulled me out looked like the kind of guy to chew tobacco and spit wisdom. His fishing cap cast a deep shadow across his eyes in the moon's glow, concealing his gaze. He was an old timer, that's for sure, one of those folk who came during the coal rush and decided to stay when all was said and done. I could see his truck— the same truck I saw moments before the crash— pulled into the shoulder of the highway with its blinkers on.
"Easy now," he reassured, his voice like gravel under a boot. "Anyone else inside?"
I nodded, unable to speak.
I plopped onto the grassy slope embarking off the side of the road. The old man pulled their mangled bodies out, one by one.
The countryside shrank around me. I felt the corners of my vision pulling in, the weed in my system straining the limits of shock I could take before melting down.
"I'm sorry, son," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of my guilt. "The police will be here soon. Don't you worry."
The police.
I stood up. I knew exactly how the police treated people with my skin color in this town.
I ran.
"Hey now!" the man hollered.
I kept running.
Away from my truck, away from my dead friends, away from the police.
I ran until my breath came in ragged, uncontrollable huffs. I flopped to the ground, laying on the cool concrete, cradling my head with my hands. My hands came back sticky. Absently, I noted blood pooling onto the pavement.
I laid there until police sirens wailed through the night, rapidly approaching. They stopped at the wreck, leaving me in silence. Moments later, the sirens picked up their mournful song again, heading toward me.
I sat up.
I was back in the lot of Sabe's Tower. Only then did I realize how little distance I really ran from the wreck— a couple hundred yards at most.
Four, five, maybe even six sirens filled the air. They were all coming for me. They knew what I had done.
I bolted from my position on the concrete. I could hide in the tower. No way the cops would look for me in that rotting place. They wouldn't dare.
I squeezed through the gap in the fence, same as before, vaulting past the
DO NOT TRESPASS ALONE
signs in a fluid lunge. The sirens behind me screamed into the night, melding together into a continuous doomsday chant.
Red and blue lights filled the lot. I hit the ground right in front of the gaping entrance to the tower, praying that the weeds poking through the concrete would be enough to mask my form. I army crawled, inch by inch, dragging myself across broken bottles and plywood shrapnell, until I was safely in the darkness of the tower.
In.
Out.
I breathed.
In.
Out.
A police cruiser parked in the lot. Its siren drowned out all other wails for a moment before shutting off. A chubby white officer hopped out, surveying the scene. His gaze came to rest on the spot where I had lain. He squatted down, raking a finger through the pool of blood I left behind. He took a few steps toward the tower, squatting down yet again. Another splotch of blood, no doubt.
His voice floated through the plaza, slightly nasal and a little out of breath. "Dispatch, this is officer Chetty, badge number 741. I'm on the scene at 1019 Pleasant Valley Lane, in the lot of Sabe's Tower. I've located a pool of fresh blood that may be linked to our hit-and-run suspect. Possible injury, suspect could be close. Requesting immediate backup and forensics for evidence collection."
Fuck.
I wormed my way further into the tower's belly, sliding between patches of fungus like a mouse in a snake pit, heading for the stairwell. I had to ascend, to find some nook or cranny out of reach of the pursuing officers. The godforsaken tower was one big game of hide and seek, only this time, losing meant far worse than a bruised ego.
Something gurgled in the darkness.
My blood froze. I halted, my heart hammering a tattoo against my ribs. Holding my breath, I strained my senses, eyes peering into the graying murk, searching for the source of the sound.
It came again, a wretched retching, like an animal choking on its own vomit. Hacking, gurgling, bubbling wetness bursting through strained vocal chords, a sound of fading vitality. It was coming from near the door, just outside the meager halo of light slipping through the hole.
A wet line smeared across the back of my neck. A yelp escaped my lips before I realized it was just a cord dangling from the ceiling.
At my yelp, the gurgling paused.
A heavy hush fell over the place, the quietude of the hunted.
I could faintly make out echoes emanating from the stairwell, only a few feet behind me.
The gurgling continued, sucking at the thick air. It began to drag forward on the cement floor— a slow, steady, rhythmic drag against the concrete.
FPOOSH.
A geyser of spores bloomed, mingling with swirls of dust in the meager light. The creature, or whatever it was, did not slow its approach. Out of the darkness, a form began to shape— a silhouette clawing its way toward me.
FPOOSH.
I could see this eruption envelop the mass on the floor. One hand appeared, then another. The fingers scrabbled over the concrete, searching for any purchase to grip. They flexed, heaving the thing even closer.
A mop of curly hair appeared between the hands. A body, face down. It pulled itself closer, into another fungal growth, grinding its face through the rough concrete.
FPOOSH.
A knife protruded from its back. The handle jutted upward, a grim totem amidst the grime and gore. I shuddered, involuntarily taking a step closer to the stairwell.
It looked up at me.
Or rather, Josh looked up at me.
I stared back, mouth agape.
His face was nearly sanded off from the concrete. His nose took the worst of it, ground down to the bone, leaving only two sucking, gurgling holes between his eyes. His cheeks were a mangled mess of blood and rocks, viscous red flowing freely to the tip of his chin before dribbling off. The chunks of meat hanging where lips should have been flapped against his teeth with every jerky motion, tethered to his face by all too little strands of flesh. Beneath them, his teeth showed bright red and white in a perpetual grimacing smile.
"Josh?" I managed to whisper, my voice a frightened squeak.
Josh opened his mouth as if to respond, ripping both cheeks in half. He hacked, gurgling, spitting up blood that came from deep within his torso. He slowly cocked his head to the side, but instead of stopping at a slant, he kept twisting his neck until bones started to crack and his head dangled upside down.
His mangled, upside down head swung limply as he pulled himself to his knees, his neck like jelly. He wasn't wearing the same clothes he was wearing earlier tonight— no, he was wearing clothes from the night Annabeth first cheated on him with me. He was at a Villanova game, supporting his favorite team since birth. Annabeth knew he would be gone for the weekend, so we took our chance. I was still at her place when he came back, wearing his Collin Gillespie jersey and reeking of beer.
Now in front of me, his prized jersey was in tatters, torn to ribbons by the concrete. He groaned, shuffling and reaching for me with bloody fingers.
I bolted into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. I pushed myself faster and faster until the door to floor 9 loomed to my side. I didn't pause for a moment, pushed forward by the gurgling echoes reverberating from below.
My thighs, weak from the frantic climb, begged for a break. I wobbled into the hallway, painfully tip-toeing through the fungus. The door to 901 beckoned ahead, hanging open like it had been awaiting my hasty return.
I stumbled over the threshold when Annabeth's singing filled the room. "Oh, Donovan!"
I froze.
Outlined against the window was a two-headed beast. One face belonged to Annabeth, the other to Ellie. The creature swayed, an obscene dance of bare, fused flesh. It wore no clothes, as if to mock God himself. It had two sets of everything— eight appendages total, like a humanoid arachnid. Annabeth's breasts, now side by side with Ellie's, put Ellie to shame, even now.
Annabeth crooned again, "Oh, Donovan!" each syllable laced with acid and honey. The sound made my skin crawl as it floated through the silent room.
"You always did want more, didn't you Donovan?" Ellie sneered, a harsh grin splitting her face.
Annabeth spat, "More than Ellie could give. More than anyone could give."
The thing dropped to the floor with a thud. All eight limbs moved in unison as it crawled.
"Isn't this what you wanted? Both of us at the same time?" Their voices tumbled over each other, mouths moving in synchrony. Together, their laughter filled the hollow room. "Don't you like the thrill, Donovan? Don't you like playing with fire?"
The thing scurried at me, jumping over fungal growths with powerful leaps. The sudden movement broke my paralyzation, spurring my legs to action. I darted into the closet and through the stairwell door, into the gurgling echoes.
Back down the stairwell I ran, the two headed beast in pursuit. Both girls snarled, hindered by their conjoined size in the narrow passageway. Their struggle echoed through the stairwell, mixing with the gurgling. I fled further down, needing to put distance between that thing and me.
I stopped dead in my tracks between floors 2 and 3.
Josh was there, leaning against the wall with the knife removed from his back, now grasped tightly in his hand. I staggered back up the stairs, instinctively retreating, narrowly avoiding the blade as he lunged at me.
Glancing up, I caught a flash of pale skin bearing down on me, cutting off my escape. My only way out was the door to floor 3. I charged through the closet, leaving the echoes behind me.
Floor 3 was empty— no walls, only fungus and windows. The atrium loomed to my left, a pie shaped hole missing from the floor and ceiling. I backed away from the door, eyeing the dangling cords hanging in the atrium.
Maybe... Just maybe...
Josh stumbled from the stairwell, filling the air with his wet slurping. Annabeth and Ellie followed, scrambling toward me.
I didn't have time to think.
I jumped, grasping at the dangling wires, praying they would hold my weight.
Time stuttered, hanging suspended like an icicle on a winter's morning. The world spun in a dizzying blur as I twisted, fingers stretching for a grip. Panic clawed its icy fingers up my spine, but it was the surprise that struck me most. The simple disbelief that this was happening.
A wire found its way into my hand, snapping without slowing my fall.
The wind whooshed past, ripping the breath from my lungs. Above me, the third floor retreated, its grimy concrete replaced by a view of the atrium's ceiling, wires swinging back and forth from my desperate escape.
Then came the sensation of falling. It's a feeling that strikes a primal chord, an orchestra of fear and adrenaline that means the end of a life. My stomach lurched, free-falling alongside me, while the rest of my body seemed to hover in a state of disbelief.
The impact came as both a shock and an inevitability. There was a moment of sheer, undiluted pain, a soundless scream reverberating through my very bones. It felt like being shattered from the inside out, an explosion of agony that started from my back and radiated outwards. An iron-hot spike of pain shot through me, and then, a chilling void as everything below my waist slipped into a terrifying numbness.
The echo of my body's collision rang in my ears as the world spun into a disorienting whirl of blurs, shadows, and pain. The cold concrete beneath me felt real, solid, a chilling contrast to the sudden loss of sensation in my legs.
In the throbbing silence that followed, I understood. I had fallen. I was broken. I lay sprawled on the atrium floor, gasping, the world tilting dangerously in my vision.
Annabeth and Ellie emerged from the staircase, scrambling across the atrium floor. Red and blue police lights filtered through the tower’s windows, making shadows dance between the monster's eight limbs. Josh wasn't far behind, still clutching onto the bloody knife, head rolling upside down between his shoulders.
"Police, we're coming in!" a familiar nasally voice shouted.
The moment officers stepped foot in the tower, the monsters vanished in a spray of spores.

I'm 27 years old and I have a 4 year old. My mom's never physically been in my life, she went to prison when she was 19 while a couple months pregnant with me.
Once she gave birth I was taken immediately away from her and given to my grandparents (her mom, step dad). I didn't know about her until I was 5, that's when my grandma explained she wasn't my mom that I'll be seeing my mom shortly (and that's when visiting her in prison started to happen) I maybe visited her 5 times total while she was in there, and she's been released for a year now.
While she was locked up I stayed in contact with her via letters and phone calls. I never really said much to her, and she would always be crying to me. I understood she missed me and such, but I never felt that I was bothered by anything and I feel horrible to say so.
Since she's been out ive seen her 2 times in person, this is because she was on parole and had to be a certain distance away although she's 10 hours away I can't travel like that financially and she can't either.
The times I hung out with her she got upset because she noticed how she constantly wants pictures/videos with me, and I don't take any of her with my phone. I told her I just don't think of doing so, yet I do take photos of me and my son all the time and it upsets her that I do that.
Another thing is she gets upset how I care about my grandparents, how I told her I don't want to live with her in the near future because I'm taking care of my grandparents living with them.
She explains to me "if that's how you wanna be" telling me stories of how much she hated her mom and step dad, and all her horrible childhood memories with them. I told her I must've not had the same version she had of them, but they are great and they took care of me. She just says stuff like, "I know I need you and you need me, yet you have your child to focus on and you feel responsible to take care of your grandparents instead of build a life with me".
I told her it's not that deep. It's just how it is now, we can't redo what she missed out on. I feel bad because I should care more about her, I just don't, I mean I do but I feel I lack a lot because she wasn't there..and it's not that I'm taking anything out on her I feel she's just pushing it.
She starts to say things like "this isn't even you, you had to live with your toxic grandparents and they made your mind like this, I regret them taking care of you for doing this to your brain". I told her I suffer from depression and anxiety and I have issues, and she's like you wouldn't have those if you didn't live with your grandparents, and it hurts me because she's trying to make me see my grandparents in a bad light.
They aren't perfect but they're nowhere how she describes them just because she had a bad childhood.
I want a relationship with my mom, but she seems to just hold this hate for my grandparents and it seems it gets in the way and makes me not like her.
She also had a boyfriend the second she got released from prison and told me that was my new dad (I don't know my dad) and she seemed to pick him over me. I say this because she had a chance to do her parole where I lived or where he lived and she chose over there. She also talks about him non stop til this day referring to him as my dad whether they are together or not.
Her and him have already had rough times and he's lied and a this to her mind games and such yet none of that keeps her from holding any hate like how she does with everyone else apparently.
I felt like I care less about her because of this as well.
Part of me feels horrible, part of me is like it's not my fault.

Hello All!
So, the short of it is thus: due to some recurrent mental health issues over the last several years, I have an extremely inconsistent work history.
My longest employment period was about 5 years ago - held a retail position for 5 years. After that I've got two roles at one company, with 9 months to each, and then several periods of unemployment broken by a year stint as a temp. I have been unemployed since that position, but did spend some time volunteering for a local non profit for about half of last year.
I suppose I have these questions:

1. Is there any trick to not letting those unemployment periods affect my ability to get a new job? How would I go about addressing them on my resume / cover letter? Should I address them there? I am not looking for any kind of c-suite or fancy-pants thing; just something to get me moving again.
2. Is there any ceremony or decorum in seeking character references? I deal with social anxiety which has caused difficulties in the past with contacting or staying in touch with different people in my life including past co-workers and supervisors. It feels stupid to ask but, there's no real trick to it other than reaching out and asking politely, right? And What kind of references do people expect these days besides confirmation of employment?
3. Another stupid-feeling question, but I'm already eating humble pie so If I am seeking employment at a place that does not specifically ask for a list of character references, does it look better or worse to present them anyways? Local specialty retailers, for example; the sort of place where if I speak with one of the managers, they probably are on first name with the actual owner of the business.

It feels embarrassing to ask some of that stuff, but a little mental health lesson: Opposite Action is the process of addressing not what you want to do in life, or how you feel about what there is to do, but simply the fact that there are some things in life you don't want to do that will have net positive outcomes for your undetaking of them. In other words, You know it's good for you, so do it anyways and be happy of the benefits of fulfillment.
Thanks all!

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I work for a construction company. A few years ago they assigned me as the 'safety guy'. It's one of many responsibilities. But it seems like they want me to look the other way all the time. Had a serious incident on a job site this week and they didn't even tell me about it. I found out about it after they were joking about it in a meeting. And when I talked to them about it they said sorry, but kind of blew me off. To me this is humiliating. Anyone else feel experience this kind of frustration?.

I'm fully aware that I'm spiraling completely. I'm almost 4 months postpartum. And I spent that whole time both pregnancy and postpartum in a depressive state. I got medicaided pretty much as soon as the baby was born. I've been going back and forth about am I really hypo or is this what happy feels like? Anyways, that's where my head is right now.
So onto the story.
I started cleaning up my depression nest after about a year of nothing being done, or barely anything anyways. I started at 11pm and now it's 3am and I'm nowhere near done.
My bedroom is triggering me so hard, but my husband and the baby are sleeping, so I can't be rummaging through all the trash and clothes and children's toys all mixed together.
But at the same time, I need everything to be actually cleaned, reorganized, and put where it actually belongs.
I don't really know where I'm going with this, just getting it out there I guess.

Hello everyone reading this,
I work at a small up in coming chain restaurant that is fast casual. I started working there some time last summer and it has been a consistent bumpy road. The main issue is, the restaurant only needs a few employees to run it so if you don't click with your fellow co-workers than you don't click. I'm sure to your complete surprise (/s) I didn't click.
One co-worker in particular hated me when I first started working there and they've admitted it to me on a number of different occasions. The reason for their dislike of me will be written below. Things eventually simmered down, "X" and I are usually decent when it's just the 2 of us working together, but every Friday when more of us are scheduled to work things change. I feel like "X" and the other co-workers listen to me less if at all, I feel like I become the object of teasing and poking. When I reach the point of annoyance and confront them on it or snap back I get to hear, "I was just TeAsInG", "you're the oldest you're suppose to be mature." "Why can't you handle people teasing you?" "It's just because I do a better job than you."
It drives me nuts but I don't feel like I can say anything cause I am the oldest, besides my manager. (And the cooks) I work with a bunch of highschoolers and I'm 21.
Recently our store has just traded managers, the new manager is sweet and all but they haven't seen the months of teasing and bad blood between me and "X". Tonight me and "X" really got into it cause I was trying to do "Position 1" and "X" wanted to do it. I wouldn't it give it up and it turned into bad bantering between me and him which lasted through the night, then got topped of with teasing that quickly became redundant and annoying. It wouldn't have been so bad if me and "X" were on better terms, but stuff like this has happened ever since last summer. Sometimes the way they choose to tease me kinda hurts and I'm not the greatest with comebacks. I can hold my own when it's one on one, but when it's multiple co-workers I feel less able. It doesn't stop until I reach a point of leaving the situation for a moment. (Which is immature, I know) Once I'm back then "X" usually stops. The manager left long before I took a minute to breath but she saw the squabble go down and didn't seem too impressed with how I was acting, kinda makes me think I'm not going to make it onto her favorable list.
I'm moving out of state at the end of July, so I'm torn between just sticking it out or handing in my two weeks and moving on. The job pays really well and is great with scheduling (they agree to not let me work weekends) but that's were the highlights end. Any advice?
Reason why X hated me: from what I know, when I first started working both I and "X" wanted to be managers. "X" thought I was going to replace him and that's what, I think, fueled his hatred. . . .There's a lot of background things I could write about but I'm pretty exhausted from everything that's been going on, so unfortunately a choppy reddit post is all I have in me rn.

I [36F] really don’t know how things got as bad as they are but I basically never speak to my dad [63] or my stepmom/their kids and I don’t want to. Background: I never lived with my dad, only ever lived with my mom and paternal grandma/grandpa. Our relationship was always strained in my opinion. He was stern and quiet and I couldn’t tell when he was mad. He wasn’t affectionate really. He never said much unless he was voicing his opinion or criticizing something. Kind of like walking on eggshells for me once I wasn’t a fun little kid anymore. I was welcoming of stepmom dating my dad when I was a teen, but by the time I was an adult I just wanted to try having a meaningful relationship with him first, before her. I tried letting him know but it never went anywhere. He never met me in the middle. I think I should make it known that I don’t want to see them at family events anymore, for my own mental health. But it just isn’t that easy.
I’ve spent lots of time feeling guilty for where our relationship stands but keep reminding myself of why I feel the way I do; that I was a somewhat neglected child/teen and that they were the adults during important developmental years of my life and did an exceptionally poor job helping me navigate life. I guess I was a highly sensitive child and still can be a sensitive adult, and I’ve learned to mask it all too well. I don’t have much memory of my childhood and I think I had so much anxiety that I was not fully present in my body. Once I was an adult I became more aware of my feelings and how much I was stuffing them down probably because I was always told to quit crying and being a baby. Even as an adult he told me to suck it up when I was crying from a serious break up. I guess my feelings and emotional well-being were and have been ignored. I also think my father would deny my reality a lot when I was little. I remember hearing “that didn’t happen” or “I didn’t say that” often. It’s hard for me to tell if he was gaslighting me and possibly a narcissist. My dad was basically a big bully.. he’d give kids in our family nicknames and they weren’t always nice. He called my chubby little cousin doughnut boy. He’d laugh at kids all the time, out loud, right in front of their face. He didn’t believe 3rd grade me when I said I had broken my arm while he was literally there and saw me fall. Two days later I was finally in a cast.
As a 20 something I found out from my stepmom that I was still on my dad’s health insurance, right at the time I would no longer be eligible to be on it- after thinking I had no way to get basic medical treatment for years. Never got my SAT Scores or senior photos done because they kept saying they’d help me do it and never did. She was photographer, jfc. She’s so vain and her body issues were projected on me. When my grandpa died my step mom called to break the news… I was not close with her then or ever really. Why should she be the one to call and break the news the first time I experienced the death of a loved one? If I ever tried calling for my dad, I couldnt even talk to him without going through her first. When I was about 20 she called me a spoiled brat after not getting her way with me and my dad was there to take her side. She’s always sticking her nose in every one else’s business and caused an even further rift between me and my dad when she stirred up drama between my mom and my dad that would have been non existent if not for her planting a lie. It was kind of traumatic for me and happened on Christmas of all days.
Either way, I hate seeing them at family events and never know when they are going to be there so I have a lot of anxiety about family gatherings that should be a good time. Any time they aren’t there I enjoy seeing and spending time with everyone. I think I need to voice how I feel for my own peace of mind but I just know they won’t understand my point of view, they never have. And there is just too much to be said..
For years our relationship was just awkward talk-about-the-weather type of surface level convo on holidays and last year when he gave me a shoulder to the chest during a goodbye hug, I said to hell with it. Why am I even trying to be cordial at this point? Now I have other family members butting in. I almost want to send a group text message saying that I’d prefer to be notified when they are coming but that is just too much to ask in my opinion. Family can’t really control when family decides to show up to a gathering everyone knows about.
I need to find a way to move on with my life and stop living in my trauma. If you read for this long, thank you 💕

Is it worth spending about $800 more for the pro? Both are at 16GB/512GB. I’m looking at something that could hopefully last me 5 years or so. In my country, the air costs around $1650 and the pro is around $2450. I use logic pro and I’m about 1 year into producing. I currently use a 2016 Macbook Air at 8GB/256GB which can run logic pro, but I constantly have to freeze tracks all the time. I also use final cut pro, but sometimes I don’t use it due to how slow it is in my laptop.
I’m aware that I could also buy 2nd hand or refurbished to get cheaper, but as much as possible I want to buy new, even if it costs more. I also am leaning towards the Air more, but I’m scared that in the near future, it might throttle due to it having no fans. Any thoughts would be very appreciated. Thank you!

I applied for a job vaguely related to what I’m qualified for but with more responsibilities and knowledge that I do not have.
It was mostly a “haha whatever I’ll throw an app in, they’ll never call me” and uh… well, they called me. And I have an interview on Monday at 1pm with a three person panel of people who have been in the industry for god knows how long. And I know next to nothing about hazardous materials in the workplace.
This is a huge company that would be honestly a really great way to get my foot in the door with this field and I am really interested in working with hazardous materials but man, I feel so in over my head.
Imposter syndrome hit me so hard. I don’t know what kind of advice would even help me here, but I thought it was pretty funny anyway and wanted to share. Basically, uh, don’t be afraid to apply for jobs you’re not qualified for, I guess. Cause maybe the mega corporation will actually call you.

I feel so burnout with my job. I wanted to leave but I dont have valid reasons. the only thing i have in mind is to fake a medical document. I am sorry I know this isnt okay but i feel like dying everyday dragging myself. As much as I want to stay because i need to pay rents and bills being the breadwinner but im also loosing myself. ive been with the company for 3 months and those were the worst 3 months of my life. my boss wouldnt want me to leave without justifiable reason. there wasnt a sigle night i slept not cyring. im so depressed. if somebody in here who could help me out in faking a medical document, im not sure if im in the right sub even but im so desparate.

I made a report against a manager for sexual harassment (the worst was when he would literally grab my thigh) and for mistreatment (things like forcing me to work overtime and telling me he can fire me if I don't finish). Realistically I don't know if he'll get fired for it because I don't think he treated my coworkers the same way and I have no witnesses. I need the job because it pays for my college tuition, classes and textbooks. Also it's the only full time job in my area that isn't a manager position.
He is currently under investigation by ethics.
Any advice for manifesting him away? I've been affirming constantly that he'll get fired soon and I'm safe. The anxiety is still there though. Like literal chest pains. I read I need to forgive him but he literally made my life hell. Being near him upsets me.

I've been dreading my current decent paying job for months now and have been run ragged trying to balance daily life while looking for something new. I manage to somehow get an interview with one of my dream jobs and did really well.
Unfortunately now I'm at the stage where we're negotiating money and their offer is so low that l would be insane to take it. I don't know what to do but the thought of having to continue where I am now makes me sick to my stomach..

My (20F) boyfriend (20M) and I have been friends for over six years and together for almost three. We’ve lived together the past two years and in two days he wants to go on a job opportunity. He will be in another state for three months and honestly will be making good money if he goes. However I’m not in a good mental health at the moment and have separation problems with being alone. Obviously I want him to go if he wants to but I don’t know how I’ll cope. Is there anything I can say to him or talk things out with him that will help me be less anxious? I’m not worried about him cheating or anything I know he’s loyal. I just honestly have a hard time being alone for that long because of my mental health problems right now. I’m not sure what to communicate to him and I’m scared how I will be when he’s gone because he’s always been there to walk me through my panic and anxiety attacks, along with my depressive episodes so I’m worried when he won’t be here. Is there anything I can talk to him about to make things better before he goes?

I had my regular donating appointment and i got called into the donating room by a medical staff that i knew because they are there almost all the time. He started a conversation with me and was smiley and asked me how long have i been donating now? I told him one year maybe. He answered that thats not true because on my card says 2018 (i forgot that i made it long time ago). I said yeah but i only have been donating regularly for the past few year. He then asked me if i only donated once and then stopped for longer and came back now. I said yes. And told him smiling that i kind of need the money right now so thats why i come donate so often. He asked me what i am doing. If i am studying etc. And that they are searching for someone at the reception. I told him thank you but i am moving cities etc. He made a sad face or dissapointing face and smiled and said that thats not a good idea maybe. Because you have to look at this and that before doing this. He told me i should do crypto. And if i want he can show me. I was speechless and when he saw that i am speechless he said „or your fried can show you. Its really good if you get to know it.“ my friend, because i told him how a friend of mine made a lot of money with crypto as well. He also told me that he has two bitcoins and how he was in switzerland for work as well for some time but came back to vienna. I asked about his work now and that i see that they are rather stressfree at this work place etc. I did tell him that i will have a good job there and what i will do. I feel so bad because i never wanted to tell anyone where im moving to or what i will be doing. And yesterday i told that and also that i am investing and he said thats a bad idea because of the recession. And he said that if i need help i can write him anytime because he also was desperate and had financial problems back then. I did not want to come across as desperate so i said oh im fine for now. Snd i will also have a good paying job etc. and i also declined the crypto teaching thing saying i do not trust it etc. He is not allowed to give patients his number so he slipped it to me telling me that no one should know this etc. I was quite okay during the conversation but felt really stupid as well afterwards for having said yes and not saying i want to be alone. But i have not talked to someone „nice“ in a long time and he even gave me compliments how he does not see many people this mature at my age and having a vision. I told him it is my birthday. He asked what i was doing? I said nothing. I felt so ashamed. And he said oh thats really sad. I asked really? I felt so seen in a way because i also think it is sad to be alone on my birthday but i hate everyone and don’t want anyone near me anymore. I left feeling good but also too good to feel safe and i did not write him. I am thinking of changing the location of the donation now. He seemed honest and reflective but i am scared of trusting again. Especially a man. Since i think that he is just attracted to me and sees that i am vulnerable and open. And what if he is another narcissist or person that will destabilize me even more than i already am?

This past week I have been noticing players on my blocked list in the same game as me, is this a new bug or has it always been like this? I have 67 on my blocked list, so it is not anywhere near maxed out.

Hey guys, I had to look up how to update. Lol.
If you want to find the og post just find it on my profile because I keep getting this post reported lol.
I just want to say firstly it’s so kind how everyone has reached out in regards to my welfare. Just to let everyone know I’m COMPLETELY FINE.
I also want to apologise to those in my comments who I replied to that said I was backtracking in my edits due to my history of abuse growing up. Because you are ALL totally right. I mentioned in my comments that due to my upbringing I instantly felt so guilty because I truly didn’t see any of what my partner was doing as abuse.
Especially because when I first got married I was straight up bleeding after intercourse every time and I told my closest cousin about it to which she said „that’s totally normal, your body hasn’t gotten used to it.. my husband was basically straight up SA-ing me when we had sex the first year“ when I heard that I sickeningly even began to feel grateful.
But this cousin was the only person in the entire world I could ask my intimate questions to, every time I brought the issue up she told me that I wasn’t trying hard enough or I should learn to enjoy it ect. So basically I’m cutting her off from advising me but I mostly feel very very sorry for what she’s accepted in her relationship. But this was part of the reason for me accepting it for so long, because I thought everyone had to deal with it.
After the post I decided to just talk about it with him and where I’m at. I talked to him about how he is using my inability to use my voice to his advantage to get what he wants. I talked about how it was clearly NOT normal for me to bleed the first three months and how I’m not over the trauma that occurred on our wedding night. And I was incredibly disappointed that he tried to act like it was all normal when he should know it’s not.
This leads to another major problem with my husband. He blames pretty much everything on me,
So in this instance he blamed me that he doesn’t participate in giving me foreplay because I don’t wear sexy lingerie or do my hair or paint my nails for him to get him in the mood to do that. (He never makes positive comments when I do this generally but I actually DO do these things) I plainly replied that I could understand that if he wasn’t in the mood for SEX for that reason, but it wasn’t because he was fine having sex with me and accepting foreplay directed at him. But because I won’t play up to a standard he himself doesn’t attempt to reach then I don’t deserve pleasure?
He didn’t really reply to that. He apologised for what he has done in the past, he tried to initiate a few more times since (I’ve turned him down because that lingerie comment really hurt to hear) and has been more affectionate until recently. This past few days I have been a little less patient to the way he usually behaves, I’ve started to confront him more about is avoidance tactics and I’m becoming a lot more confrontational and he’s not reacting great to that. We have been arguing much much more than usual and we aren’t really acting friendly to eachother, him because I’ve completely stopped enabling him and me because I am sick of his constant resistance to my needs.
I’ve talked to a counsellor about my current situation and she has for the moment advised me to stay here and figure out my next move rather then to move back to my abusive home.. My counsellor believes that rather then deal with going back and potentially being thrown out by my mother again, it’s better if I get a job remotely and start saving up. Within 5 months I should know whether I really feel this marriage is salvageable.
I brought out the feelers to see how my dad would react to me not being happy in my marriage and his response was more along the lines of „marriage is hard, deal with it, don’t tell anyone you’re unhappy“.
So yeah. I’m stuck here in my partners country with no friends, no family and no career. So, this isn’t really the sex toy review anyone you were hoping for.
Also in addition to this news… I’ve been feeling nauseous lately.. so I’ll be taking a pregnancy test soon…

Has anyone else here placed an order at a shop & then months later when the jewelry comes in you can’t afford it? This happened to me. I lost my job recently so I couldn’t go in to get the piece, $300… They said it wasn’t an issue and will have no problem selling it. I apologized & felt awful. But I’m still so worried they hate me & I can never show my face at that shop again 😭

So to make things short, I’m a new cook and I want to one day become a chef (yes, I am aware it is an underpaid industry, and it’s known to be toxic. But not every work environment is like this and sometimes it takes time. Or at least I hope, at this point I’m losing so much hope.)
I literally just got this job and it pays pretty decent. The only people who work in this kitchen is the chef (my boss) and her boyfriend. So that itself can make things a bit awkward and difficult, but I was getting so much praise at the beginning, and chef herself even told me she liked me. Which makes all of this so confusing and weird. Last week, Chefs boyfriend asked me to think of something to put on their wine tasting menu. I actually thought of something great and they ended up saying they were going to use it. I was so excited and felt so fulfilled and happy. But this is when things started to get weird and bizarre.
Apparently this causes my chefs attitude to FLIP with me. When I say flip, I mean flip. She excludes me from conversations, never asks me how I am, doesn’t want my help on the line anymore, she nitpicks EVERYTHING I do and honestly makes me feel like an idiot. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t work around her anymore. She left me the other day and didn’t say goodbye and left me with ALL the dishes to do and to close down the whole kitchen. I thought I might add, her boyfriend and I get along pretty great and I feel like I get along more with him more than her. She claimed that I gave him “attitude” on Sunday (the day I pitched the menu idea) which I thought was weird because we were talking that whole night and he even said good job on my idea.
So yeah, it’s gotten so toxic that my girlfriend is advising me to just not go back tomorrow. I won’t get into too much detail on how the chef is with me but it’s pretty bad and the things she says to me are so unnecessary. I’m mostly worried how this might affect my career path, and if it might not be the best idea to just leave abruptly but I’m thinking I have to do it.
I’m worried about money as well, but my girlfriend is reassuring me that it will be okay and she doesn’t want me to go back there because how bad the chef made me feel about myself. I had the chef from a really nice hotel give me a call with better pay and even benefits, so I’m hoping that will work out but of course with life you just never know. This year has been such shit for me, I’m not sure if this is the right subreddit but if anyone has any ideas to ease my anxiety please say it. Thank you.