So the town we work in, Celebration, is having a FIVE day fourth of July festival that, I shit you not, is called...
A FLASHBACK 4TH OF JULY: ROCKIN IN THE YESTERYEARS
It's called this because the only bands they can afford to come out and play just so happen to be firmly cemented (and left) in "the yesteryears".
Tonight we served expensive meatloaf to the dazzling serenade of 1995's own Dishwalla. Elise pointed Dishwalla to our bathroom. Market Street Cafe's bathroom--it's about as backstage as these bands are going to get for themselves in Celebration. Heads up, the paper towel dispenser is always empty or just plain broken. I'd put towels in it, but I don't have the key. These things must be kept under lock and key you know.
Dishwalla, so you know, had that one song. You remember.
When they played it... all my tables started asking, are THEY the ones that sing that song?
The first four days of festival are all leading up to the big bang of the actual Fourth. We're rockin all the way back to yesteryear 1982 with A Flock of Seagulls. That's right.
A Flock of Seagulls.
We're supposed to dress all eighties and it's going to be very hard to resist attempting the Flock of Seagulls hairdo. Of course, the 4th is our restaurant's busiest day of the year and my hair is just going to melt off of my head and face anyway.
Because you see, our restaurant hasn't had air conditioning in full operation in over two months! In Florida. In the summer. Working outside on the patio, it's 90 degrees and the only escape is to dip into the dining room and it's cool 85 degree oasis. Or you can take a relaxing visit to the private sauna known as the kitchen and dishroom where you'll find that the thermometer on the wall is always at 95.
