Little smile on a big frowny day.

So, the thing about a shitty day is that it's usually lots of little things.  Today was one of those days, though it seemed like some of the little ones were abnormally large.  But I'm not here to talk about the shitty things.  That may be reserved for another post.

As I got home this morning at 3:30 A.M., brooding on having to get back up for the 10:30 A.M. shift, I found a little surprise in the mail: a hand-addressed envelope from the county clerk.  Strange, I don't remember any traffic tickets.  Could it be [gasp] jury duty?!

No, it seemed too thin for that.  But I remembered that a week ago I exercised my constitutional right and applied for a concealed handgun permit in my state.  Hmm, thin envelope could be notification of denial...

But no.  It was, in fact, a receipt for paying the fee associated with the application.  So that's something.  They got my money.  It's progress.

But shitty mood returned and I thought: if it takes a week to just get a receipt, how long will the actual permit take?  Speed of government, right?

Back to brooding.

Flip Flop reviews Drive

I've got a bone to pick with whoever was in charge of marketing.  I should never have wanted to see this movie.

Flip Flop reviews The Help

Despite how much I like Emma Stone, "The Help" still has one serious flaw that keeps me from liking it.

Flip Flop reviews "Rise of the Planet of the Apes"

Starting a new web series here at the Shoe called "Flip Flop." This film criticism series will look at Hollywood's money-makers in a fast-paced and (hopefully) more entertaining fashion than the actual movie.

You don't know, man!

I feel everyone should work for at least several months in a service position. It certainly gives you a good perspective on life.

In my time between college and my first steady job as a filmmaker, I have so far worked at two movie theaters. First, was that one place I mentioned before that had the one-drink-minimum, and I consider that training for having a difficult client, as my boss was constantly drunk and, inevitably, hard to work with on anything.

Presently, I'm at the theater that puts Job A to shame, since it has a real restaurant menu and full bar. Here, I work as a manager and a bartender. Bartending is great here, because it's just a service bar and I don't deal with customers directly. Managing is a different story, since I'm the first person that a difficult customer wants to see, usually because they think I will comp their tab if they cause enough of a stink.

And its been my time as a manager that has opened my eyes to this fact: The customer is NOT always right. Usually, he's just an asshole.

Case in point: I had a pair of customers demand to see me after a film. The first thing they said was "We want to explain why I didn't leave a tip."

For those of you unaware why this is a terrible thing to do, let me enlighten you.

First off, not leaving a tip is a mean thing to do. Servers only make $2.00/hour in salary, and most of that goes to taxes on the tips they earn, leaving them entirely dependent on the mere handful of coins you WERE going to leave for them as you left. And depending on the establishment, the server may have to tip out the bartender or food runner, meaning they LOSE money when you don't tip. It's an unfortunate reality of the restaurant business that business owners have become accustomed to tips coming by default that they realize they can save money by reducing the hourly rate of their servers while keeping their food affordable. I wish it wasn't the case, but there it is.

Now, not leaving a tip is one thing. Usually we just call you a jerk after you leave and go about the rest of our day having already vented our frustration, and by the time you come back we will have forgotten about it.

However, going to the manager and saying "This is why I didn't leave a tip," that's what elevates you to "Asshole Status."  You're just rubbing your rudeness in our faces at that point.

Lesson of the day: Don't be an asshole.