The Polish Girl quit the restaurant today.
I had called her for a post-wiffleball game drink while at Kisling's, right by her house. She came out and joined us, and broke the news. She returned to work and was punished for her vacation by getting crappy shifts, so she just walked out. I'm sure it's been brewing for a while; after all, the left on vacation without permission (even though she gave several months' notice, the restaurant was too shorthanded to give her permission to go), and came back not knowing if she would have a job or not.
She's happy. I'm glad for her. She'll get a new job pretty quickly, I'm sure.
But she was hired the month before I was, so I'm now ranked second in seniority at the restaurant. Two and a half years waiting tables at the same place. Pretty amazing that this minor second job has taken on such a prominent role in my life.
After she broke the news, we went to a new bar called Red Brick House, where Alan and I watched baseball while the Polish Girl chatted and looked bored. When she went to the bathroom, Alan told me how cute we looked together, and I reminded him that we weren't together, and that she had just gone on vacation with another guy to Key West. She's a good friend, that's it. And I'll miss her, but I'll make sure to make a point of still hanging out as often as possible.
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