Fool is Me

Yesterday I had a crazy, long day. I worked Time Out's annual Eat Out Awards which consisted of showing up at the Cultural Center, helping to set up and doing coat check for a couple of hours. I like working their marketing events because they pay and it's a good way to meet new people. The event honored the best restaurants in Chicago and presented the restaurateurs with awards. We got to sample some of the food at the banquet which was good but was the kind of food where I'm like, "what the hell am I eating?" As much as I'd love to go to some of this restaurants, being the picky eater I am, I know I wouldn't appreciate the food and would just end up literally tearing it all apart. The best part of the night was working the coat check. At the end, most everyone tipped us. Between the four of us working the coat check, we split the tips and each made out with $22. Sweet. I should become a full-time coat check girl. Too bad winter is pretty much over. After the event, our manager took a bunch of us to a bar, bought us drinks and some apps. All in all it was a successful day. Then I did something sorta crazy. I went to a strip club.

So, I have a friend who lost her job (an office job, mind you) and is trying to find something else. She applied for a few bartending jobs to no avail. She's seriously thinking about becoming a stripper. So, I went with her to a club so she could fill out an application and meet with the manager. I'm not a strip club virgin or anything, but hanging out in them makes me uncomfortable. I hadn't been in a strip club in years. I was supposed to attend a bachelor party in August which would've entailed heading to a club, but I missed out. Anyway, we were in the club for less than five minutes when some random guy came up to my friend and goes: "I'll give you $20 if you kick me in the balls." For real! So of course turned him down. Some people are sick. The club was topless only but it was still degrading. I felt some girls put more effort into their dancing. Some were really aggressive and acrobatic, others had no energy. Work it, girls! Anyway, I think my friend has decided against stripping. At least I hope so. I jokingly told a friend today (it is April Fools) that I was auditioning to become a stripper and he flipped out. He kept saying: "It'll take you down a dangerous path" and he kept lecturing me not to do it. Granted, I appreciate the concern, but I assured him I WAS NOT becoming a stripper. I'm not sure if he believes me or not. This whole stripping thing got me thinking, though. I mean, yeah, stripping is degrading, but you make a shitload of money and I consider a lot of the jobs I've had to be degrading for no money, so why not get paid well? There must be a way to make good money without selling your soul. I have yet to find that. So, that was Monday.

Today I had a surprise. I was reading Time Out's Letters to the Editor section. I rarely read it, but I read it today and to my wandering eyes should appear but my name! Apparently some reader read an article I wrote on how radio is dead. They wrote: "Garin Pirnia needs to get her facts straight. Radio is not dead." I'm infamous! You know you've made it when you're featured in the Letters to the Editor section. Even though it was a criticism, at least someone (other than my friends and family) is reading and responding to my work. This is the second time in the past few weeks someone has responded (albeit negatively) to my criticism. But, hey, it's all good I suppose. I'm getting my name out there.

I've been pretty frustrated lately with my life. I feel I need to make some drastic changes. I need to get my career together and my love life in some capacity. I need money. I want things I can't have. I need to do something about these areas because things can't keep going the way they've been. I need to turn over a new leaf. I need something good to happen and to remain for a while instead of everything being fleeting and cyclic. Stability. Maybe that's what I want. Or just things to go my way. I'm sick of the struggle and always ending up back where I started. C'mon, Spring! Bring me something (someone) good.