so hard for it honey

i always heard that the song "she works hard for her money" was about a bathroom attendant.

but seriously, let's think about this. are you really working hard if you are sitting there, handing people paper towels? it's not like you're scrubbing the bathroom floor. i mean, yes, you are subject to lots of smells and visions of things you never want to see. but you are not working hard for your money.

i've had some experiences recently with people in this line of profession--in low class bars in philadelphia. see, to me the bathroom attendant is 100% unneccessary. and 100% weird. weird because you feel like you are being watched (women, remember that men stand at urinals while peeing--watch your back!). weird because you feel like you have to tip them for doing something you normally prefer to do. weird because weird bars have attendants now! i am talking about bars that serve beer and cheese fries, not a fancy restuarant.

i'm talking about chickie's and pete's (south philly). i am also talking about the public house (center city), where they have TWO attendants. just in case there are lots of guys peeing, one can turn on the faucet while the other pumps the paper towel dispenser. but imagine being alone when there are two attendants. creepy.


so at the public house...if those guys were working hard for their money, it wasn't by "burning the midnight oil" or "putting some elbow grease into it." it was by coming up with the hottest new rhymes and crazy matrix-style hip-hop moves.

at chickie's and pete's the guy just gives you paper towels. but his selection of fragrances is phenomenal. on friday, my friend fran came out of the men's room wearing drakkar noir. amazing. later on, i went in and asked the gentelman what he had that would make the ladies scream (and flashed him my wedding bad). he gave me the jean-paul gautier cologne. i almost puked. but the bottle made me laugh. it's a man's bust that is striped blue. so gay. seriously gay-especially to be in a bar across from the stadiums in south philly. regardless, i paid for it (it being the smell) all night and in the morning. i will never wear the jean-paul again. i probably never would have anyway, had i not been shitfaced.

the moral of the story? if you do go to a place where there is a bathroom attendant, embrace it and get your dollar's worth by practically bathing in their cologne.