I’ve been thinking about buying a gun. And the reason being I just don’t feel safe anymore. I can’t tell if I’m being paranoid because of the recent old newspaper articles I read on my dad’s case or if I’m just naturally this way. Thing is, I’m not sure where to start on getting a gun. There’s a lot more to it than just buying a gun. I need to look into everything and my step dad and brother are trying to help me in terms of choice of gun and where to practice it at. At first, they were looking at .380’s and they even found one with a cute blue coat on it. However, my brother told me he was thinking of giving me our dad’s old pistol. It’s a Smith and Wesson (sp?). Brendan, my bro, said he’d been thinking about giving it to me because he felt that dad would want me to have it because he felt safe with the gun. Although, for dad it was more to lessen his paranoia, I’m sure.
I’ve been trying to deal with my anxiety about starting training, soon, on the front desk. I keep getting nervous that I’ll really fuck up or I’ll be so new that a guest will take it personally that I don’t know what I’m doing and they’ll complain. I don’t handle confrontation well. I either shut down or get really mad. Especially if I’m right about something. Once, I was working at the Pub and an old regular that I never liked tried saying I didn’t write the special of the day on our board near the front of the door but I had. She literally just didn’t see it because she came in, said “hey”, and then walked straight to her seat. Her and her husband were the only people who could call ahead and reserve a seat. They were somewhat picky and were rude to me before I even met them. The old woman had called on one of my first weekends working there and when I said we couldn’t reserve seats, she got an attitude quick simply saying “Well, you do for us” and promptly hung up. She apologized later but wow, what a bitch. Anyway, the day she said I didn’t write the specials, I totally had written them. Even the owner asked me why I didn’t write them. Irritated, I gestured to the sign with clear purple chalk (marker) on it and the old woman acted like she couldn’t read it and that it was my fault cuz I wrote it “too dark”. Sometimes you can’t please people but don’t EVER call me wrong when I’m not. It pisses me off that companies will write their employees up because they were right about something that a guest/customer claimed they were wrong about. I get that you have to stay professional but how do you say “I’m right” without being an absolute dick?
I’m gonna jump to a better topic, one that makes me the good kind of nervous. I’m gonna keep it short because I don’t wanna type about mushy stuff. I’ve passed a barrier that I’ve kept up for a while. I’m more comfortable around my Beau! I’m really starting to feel the butterflies, fam!
Okay, I’m going to get back to watching Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts on Netflix.