Jack is sick. Poor baby. Men are just so sweetly pathetic when they are unwell. I got home from work last night and he must have said at least ten times, within five minutes, "I'm sick."
Yes, sweetie, I know.
He's asleep on the futon now. He's sick, you know.
He gave me some good news yesterday though. See, Monday, one of the managers at his restaurant jokingly asked him to give the Fresh Talk, which I guess is kind of a motivational pre shift speech to the floor staff. Also, they run down the specials and upselling tips and stuff like that.
Well Jack completely ran with it, totally adlibbing and blew them away. When we stopped in there later that evening for dessert (mmm....creme brulee)they were still talking about it. Apparently, he recommended....the bourbon.
So Tuesday there were talks amongst the managers and they decided to offer Jack a position as floor manager.
!!!!!!!!!!
I repeat
!!!!!!!!!
Jack said yes, but he wants to wait until after the honeymoon, because he doesn't feel it would be fair to them to interrupt his training for a week or more while we go gallavanting off to Vegas.
So, yeah, that's happy new.
In other, less pleasant news, I'm seeing an unfamiliar IP in my pink diary. I've locked that diary until I find out who belongs to Crescent Consulting. I am NOT happy about this. I know another friend of mine with a locked diary had an incident with someone sharing HER password. I don't like to think that anyone I've trusted has done the same thing but again, until I hear otherwise, I'm drawing that conclusion.
