My favorite and sage line cook has struck again. (You'll remember she is the same one who explained I needed to stop "making love" like white people, and just do it for real like Mexicans - noises included - and then I would be able to have a baby.) Today, she asked me why I was working at a restaurant. I replied because Daddy Warbucks (name has been changed to protect the privacy of my husband) still wants his boat and I'm just 143 shifts away from paying for it. For some reason, she didn't take that answer as real, and asked me again. I, then threw it back at her, and asked her why she wanted to know. And then the following conversation took place:
Line Cook: "Because Kate you seem too smart for this place. You seem like someone...like someone...what do you call those people who dig for bones?"
Kate: "An archaeologist?"
Line Cook: "Yeah, you seem like you would be that. You know someone smart."
Bob (my co-worker): "So you think she looks smart? You don't think she looks like a doctor, or a rocket scientist? Just an archaeologist?"
Line Cook: "Yeah. You know I can just see Kate out there in the dirt finding sh@t. Smart Sh#t."
So, apparently, if the waitress job doesn't work and I can't make a kid, I'm going digging. Digging for some smart Sh#t.