Tag Archives: glitter

Glitter Vs. Glass: One Bartender’s Painful Journey Through Choicy Fashion Choices

5 Jan

There is a Bath and Body Works right next to the pub I work at, and everything is always¬† “ON SALE FOR ONE DAY ONLY!” there. I never really paid much attention to the store, until recently when my sister surprised me by showing up for the last few moments of my shift. I made her the dirtiest of martinis while she waited for me to be finished. As we made our way to the car, we passed the Bath and Body Works. “Come on,” Caitlyn said, “I wanna go in here for a second.” They have this AMAZEBALLS candle scent, “Fresh Balsam” that I completely DIE for, so I decided to accompany her and pick one up at 50% off before the season was out.

We’re both scanning the shelves, looking at all of the miscellaneous potions and perfumes, when I suddenly find something called “Pink Chaffon Glitter.” It looked like a unicorn had hugged a fairy so hard that they both farted, and someone had managed to capture it in a tube. The tube of body shimmer also came with a tube of body wash. I’m a very girly-girl, so the idea of something that smells good and is pink and shiny all over my body at all possible times makes me feel joy. I needed body wash anyway… I decided I’d buy the pack.

Fast forward a few days. I’m in my bathroom after my shower. I pick up the fairy/unicorn extract and squeeze a little bit into my palms. I rub the mixture over my arms and hands, and make sure everything is thoroughly covered in sparkling wonder. For a moment, I’m not sure if I actually like the effect- I feel like I’m back in 8th grade or something, smearing body glitter that I got at Limited Too all over myself. I decide the effect is subtle enough for a 24 year old, and leave the house.

Work starts out normally enough. Everything is running smoothly. We have three bartenders on and it’s not too busy, so we have time to do some glassware while we’re waiting for more customers. I’m putting dishes away when Allie, one of my favorite coworkers, comes over.

Me: (Proudly) Look at my arms!
Allie: Oooo! Sparkly!
Me: I wasn’t sure if I liked the look at first… you don’t think the actual pieces of glitter are too big, do you? Does it look like 8th grade trash status?
Allie: Absolutely not. I was just going to say it’s subtle enough to look really good.
Me: (feeling completely reassured) Awesome. Thanks!

A few hours go by. I’m feeling fricken fabulous. Every time I reach for a bottle of liquor, the light catches on my skin and I’m reminded that I’m a fairy princess today. I deserve a crown. I deserve a puffy dress. Where is my magical sparkling scepter? If I’m not careful I’m going to sprout wings and fly around the pub, sprinkling the alcoholic patrons with my sheer awesomeness and sparkling glory.

Not only do I look and smell amazing, but EVERY song that is playing is something completely FABULOUS. As in the timeless hit “Come On Over” by Christina Aguilera. “Timber” by Pit Bull and Ke$ha. “Boyfriend” by Ashlee Simpson. I’m living for these songs. I’m living for the guy sitting at barstool 139 who is so nice I can barely look at him without his smile making me feel like I am the most awesome person on the entire planet. AND! I am LIVING for my NEW BODY GLITTER!!!!

I’m jamming out to a song, dancing a little bit, putting away glassware. I’m stacking up glasses to the beat. ONE, two, THREE, four, glassware sucks NOT ANYMORE! FIVE, six, SEVEN, eight, I am sparkly and I smell GREAT!

I go to pick up the last glass and add it to my stack, but I guess the last glass was the only thing keeping the crate of glasses from falling over. Everything happens in slow motion… I lift the final glass, and the crate starts to tip… I try to grab the glasses, but my hand already has a glass in it… I catch the crate with my hip… but the glasses are still falling… The stack of glasses and the glass in my hand come together in an ear-shattering explosion… customers gasp, I let out a muffled shriek… And then, everything is still.

I look down at myself. There are miniscule shards of glass sprinkled over EVERYTHING. ALL over my arms, my hands, my chest, my kilt, my legs. I wait for the blood to come, I wait for the pain… But nothing happens. Someone says, “Are you okay? Did you cut yourself!?”

“I… I don’t think so…” I manage. My other bartenders come to my rescue. They allow me to step away for a moment to go clean myself up.

I can feel tiny pieces of glass all over me. I can feel them in my hands, in my arms… but I can’t see them. And do you want to know WHY I can’t see them?!? Do you? I’ll tell you why… Because MY girly ass decided to wear GLITTER to work behind a BAR.

My high-on-life buzz is completely gone. A trickle of blood is oozing from my middle finger. How fitting. I’m trying desperately to pick the pieces of glass out of my skin, but it’s useless. I can feel the pain, the tiny little shards all over me… but I can’t see them to pick them out.

Suddenly, a group of about ten people walk up to the bar, and the tickets from the servers who need drinks start pouring through the machine. There is no time for bleeding. There is no time for pain. I must clean up the glass, I must make drinks, and I mustn’t get blood all over everyone. The song on the radio changes to something stupid. And suddenly? I’m not a fairy princess. I’m not the queen of all things sparkly. I didn’t ride a unicorn to work, and I’ll never catch a falling star and put it in my pocket. I’m just a bartender. Not only that, but I’m a clumsy bartender who is stupid and covered in glass. The attractive guy is all like “ARE YOU OKAY?” and I’m just like, “…I hate myself.”

The end.

 

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