Receipt Art: October 21, 2010

Since it's getting closer and closer to Halloween my receipt arts have been getting all kind of spookified (yes, I know that's not a real word).  Now I could just draw the same pumpkins and whatnot over and over again but I would get entirely bored with myself.  So I decided to take a few suggestions from my blog readers and ended up drawing a spider theme for J. Franklin Evens.  It was fairly legit.

And then, there in the comments, it was pointed out that I neglected to include the cliche black cat in my over-the-top, super-Halloween receipt.  Mira-Cole pointed out, "You seem to also have forgotten the black cat chiche. Or even better, a black car sticking it's head out of a pumpkin. Double Halloween goodness, fear it."  First off, you're right, Mira-Cole.  Second, your last sentence makes me fell all sorts of happy; it practically reeks of me.


So here it is, Mira-Cole, in all its glory.  I thank you.

Check that shit out while ignoring my not so photogenic carpet.  Yes, that is a rather nonscary cat poking out of that pumpkin.  I think what he lacks in the ability to induce fear he more than makes up for in cuteness.  Just look at those little paws and pumpkin top turned hat.  Clearly adorable.


Please feel free to ignore my horrid attempt at a spooky tree.  It looks a lot more like a deformed witch hand than any tree I've ever seen.  It just looks so very sad.  Scary trees are clearly not my forte. 


And yes, I included that spider again for you, J. Franklin Evens.  Consider it a blog-insider thing.  


I also got a nice little note on one of my napkins from two music teachers in town for a convention.  Naturally I had been all fancy and drawn a pretty sweet music themed receipt with notes and instruments and treble clefs and whatnot. 

Unfortunately for you, they took it with them which happens to so many of my best artworks.  Just imagine all the wonders you'll never get the chance to see.

You "Like" Me, You Really "Like" Me!

You may have noticed that I added a new feature to my sidebar full of shit.  Go ahead, take a little look over there.  Oh hey!  I now have a Facebook page for my blog and you...

Sorry, got interrupted by a Harry Potter preview.  Epic.

Yes, I jumped on the bandwagon and made a fan page for my blog and its sister column in Hooters Magazine.  Feel free to proclaim your love for all things Sauce by hitting "Like."

In case you're lazy you can feel free to just hit LIKE HERE and go straight to the page.  I guess you'll still have to do some work once you get there.  Whatever, it's the thought that counts.

P.S. I guess I technically added two things to the side bar; I also added a section of Hooters links to make my blog even more Hooterific.  You're welcome.

I Am a Halloween Overachiever

In addition to being a Hooters overachiever, I am evidently also a Halloween overachiever.  I mean not only did I spend about fifteen hours making my Buzz Lightyear costume, I am also making Dreamy the most realistic Woody costume ever.  Now before you jump to the conclusion that I'm "one of those" girlfriends, I'll have you know that it was HIS idea to dress up as Woody.  Of course while it was his idea, it's been my idea to execute.  I am probably too nice.

So here I am on my Friday night - yes, my Friday is a Monday - dying a shirt yellow in a huge bucket.  It seems they don't sell bright yellow shirts for men.  At least not for 6'8, giant men.  Of course rather than buy a light yellow shirt I had to go all out and bust out the Rit dye.  My fingers are crossed that I don't get it all over my studio apartment.

In addition to the dying, I am going to painstakingly draw red lines all over the shirt with a fabric pen because everything I do has to be accurate.  I am already expecting hand cramps and future arthritis.  I also made him a cow-print vest.  And spurs.  And a working pull-string (yeah that one took awhile to figure out).

Oh and did I mention I made the most legitimate, amazing, nerdy-but-cool Hannah Montana costume ever worn by a 24-year-old once.  Well, I did.  That's how big this problem has become.

Dear Lord, help me in my addiction to costume perfection.  You can start by helping me win lots of costume contests at every bar we end up in.  I figure it's only fair, Lord.

After putting this post up, and looking at that picture of Buzz and Woody,  I realized we have just about the proper height difference for these characters.  And my boyfriend has a big head (size 8 plus here).  This is going to be so awesome.  Just ignore the Brokeback undertones of two generally male characters dating.

Someone Actually Published Me

Yup, it's official, I am a real, live, totally published writer.  I got word that the newest issue of Hooters Magazine had arrived and broke several laws speeding to Hooters to get a look at it.  There I am in all my glory on page 15.  I'd write more, but I'm in need of something especially celebratory - like a Blizzard or the biggest margarita money can buy.  Or do they make margarita Blizzards?  I'd like mine with extra tequila please and thank you.

Get down to Hooters and pick up your copy of Hooters Magazine featuring the premier of "Hooters According to Sauce."  The magazine will also be hitting newsstands the first week of November.  Either way you should totally get your hands on one.  And then frame it.

NOTE:  After reading the article I found two - or three, I can't remember - mistakes in it.  It's funny how when you're writing stuff you are too close it to notice such dumb mistakes.  I must have read that thing a hundred times, yet there they are after I haven't read it for a couple months.  I promise I'm not dumb.  But note to self, Hooters apparently expects me to do ALL my own editing...

The Soccer Team

I had a big table today.  I'm talking twenty-seven top big.  Yup, twenty-seven people, at one time, on a Wednesday afternoon.  I was amazed too.  I was even more amazed by the fact that they had the extreme foresight to call ahead.   You see there is something about Hooters that seems to make people think we're always ready to handle huge groups of people.  There is nothing I love more than thirty people just dropping in and being surprised that we don't just have some huge table in the corn that seats 113.  Unfortunately for you and your very extended family, this is not the case.  Sorry to break it to you.

Back to what I was saying before I interrupted myself, I had a twenty-seven top today and they were nice enough to give me an hour notice.  Now, an hour may not seem like much, but those sixty delicious minutes are plenty of time to move seven or so tables together, put out a whole bunch of silverware, liter the table with wet naps and set out all sorts of water pitchers.  It's amazing how doing those simple things before hand will make your whole life easier.  Of course even an hour notice can't help the fact that you only have two cooks, but more on that later.

So there I was, flying high with my perfectly set up table looking all sorts of good.  Then I saw the bus.  This is generally not a good sign.  As you may recall, the last time I had a big bus pull in it didn't go so well for me.  And by that I actually mean the little high school shits made everything as complicated as effing possible for me.  And then they left me $14 bucks.  I was having flashbacks of this moment as I watched that bus round the corner.  I was very, very afraid.

I only became more afraid as I watched twenty-seven high school boys in matching warm-ups file down the stairs and towards the door.  Dear Lord, it was a freaking soccer team.  I was about ready to nail shit to the floor they looked so hungry.  When was the last time the fed these growing boys with what I can only imagine are monstrous appetites?! 

As they all clamored to get around the table and let me know all but four of them would be having water (bad omen), one of the couches pulled me aside.

Coach:  "So can you do separate tickets?  Each boy has to handle his own funds.  So split tickets?"

Sauce:  Forcing a smile.  "Well, with this many people it's going to take a lot longer for me to do that.  I of course can, I just want to let you know it will make things a little slower.  Is there any chance they would be paying with cash?"

Coach:  "Oh, it's all cash."

He'd spoken the most magical of words.  Cash.  Thank my freaking lucky stars.  I then explained to him that with everyone having cash it might be easier for them to all "throw in" as it was much easier and quicker for me to get change once than it was to get change twenty-seven separate times.  Luckily, he got my logic right away.   Thinks were looking up.  Of course by looking up I mean I still expected $14.  Again.

After completing my first mission of not having to split the ticket a gillion ways, I made it my next mission to steer the table toward wings.  This was not so much because it was easy for me, but because - as I mentioned before - we had two cooks on shift.  I hoped to make their job easier.  I failed most miserably.

I started my way from one end of the table to the other and back again and each and every boy had to order something different.  And modify things.  And then change their minds.  I cringed with every order I wrote down, crossed out and then wrote down again.  The kitchen was going to hate me.

Eventually, I slung the ticket into the food window, all five pages of it.  You see rather than printing one, huge, frightening ticket, I organized everything.  Burgers I sent with burgers.  Wings I sent with wings.  Random shit I sent with random shit.  It was the least I could do for my poor cooks.

Luckily, the cooks appreciated my organizational skills and knocked out that huge ticket like world champs.  Miraculously, all the items came out within five minutes of each other.  I was beyond impressed.  And my table was happy.  The hard part was over.  Now I just had to wait for the part where I would get $14.

Finally, I printed out the ticket and noticed that my manager had been nice enough to add auto gratuity.  Some of you may recall that our owner decided to do away with auto gratuity for pretty much no good reason.  Luckily, my manager understands food service and decided to throw me a bone.  I could be expecting a nearly $40 tip based on the auto gratuity and made sure to point out the tip when I presented the check.

Sauce:  "All right, guys, here's your check.  Now I'm going to give you a chance to use all that math you told your teachers you'd never, ever use.  It'll be easy enough to figure out what you owe, but keep in mind that we add an automatic gratuity for big parties.  It's 18% and if you need help figuring that out on what you owe I'll be happy to lend my fingers for counting purposes!"

I asked who wanted to be in charge, and left the ticket with a boy at the head of the table.  I expected they'd be scrounging for change, in awe of the price at the bottom of the ticket.  After a few minutes they slowly shuffled towards the door and one casually noted that the cash was on the table and that I might find some extra.  Sure thing.  I couldn't wait to find the extra quarter.

I picket up a huge stack of cash.  It was fives.  And lots of ones.  Not a good sign.  I started counting.  I got to the ticket amount, I kept counting.   I realized I had been left a tip of more than $60.  By a team of high school boys.  I was shocked and amazed and awe inspired.  Shame on my for my stupid stereotyping.

So to that lovely Idaho soccer team, Karma is on your side for calling ahead and taking such good care of me.  You'll probably win state because of your kindness.  The world owes it to you now.  Mark my words.

Oh and I tipped my cooks out really well today.  They thank you too.

Don't forget your daily vote for Sauce as Buzz Lightyear in the Hooters Costume Contest!  CLICK HERE TO VOTE FOR ME ON FACEBOOK!

Receipt Art: October 17, 2010

Today I present you with my first ever receipt art inspired by a reader of "Girl and Guitar."  In response to my receipt featuring a plethora of  Halloween cliches, J. Franklin Evans rightfully said, "Hey!  All this time I thought something was missing from your pic and I just figured it out.  Shouldn't there be a spider somewhere? Hanging from a web or something? Yeah, cliche . . ."


Yes, Mr. Evans had totally called me out and I clearly couldn't let that go unanswered.  So here, Mr. Evans, is your spider inspired theme.

It's a fairly simple design, but I think it's awfully cute.  Mostly this is because the spider is smiling.  Are spiders happy creatures?  I clearly think yes.  Also, note that spiders have eight legs.  When I left this receipt, the recipient was adamant that spiders have six legs.  No, dude, this is Earth and on Earth our spiders do indeed have eight legs.  Wikipedia that shit.


Anyway, I'm liking this whole blog readers inspiring me thing, so please feel free to leave you deepest receipt desires in my comments.  I'll try my darnedest to bring your ideas (well the good ones at least) to a receipt near you!

Sauce takes a Trainee on an Adventure at Table 31

Yesterday I trained a new girl.  It was her third day of training and basically what this means is I get to follow her around, make sure she doesn't forget anything and make her money.  Ok, that sounds wrong.  I actually do a lot a of work, but the trainee is expected to do most of the "server stuff" with the tables.  It's her job to introduce us and take drink orders and take food orders.  It's my job to make sure she's doing all of the above right.  I make sure she remembers all the questions to ask when a guy orders wings or that she lets people know the specials.  Basically I make sure she doesn't forget crap.

The girl I trained yesterday was doing a pretty good job taking tables and remembering all the big things she had to be doing.  While Hooters might seem like an easy job, there really are a lot of little things to remember when people are ordering.  I was doing an awful lot of reminding of these things.  That's normal enough though.  What wasn't so normal were the two guys we had to deal with at table 31.  I should be more specific, the one really nice bodybuilder and the old guy we had to deal with at table 31.

When we approached the table the old man was mad that we didn't have breakfast.  This happens at Hooters more than you might realize.  Maybe it has something to do with us being right behind an IHOP, but people - especially older people - always seem to want pancakes or a scramble or maybe even a frittata.   We open at eleven we, don't have breakfast.  Deal with it.

As I was saying, approaching the table there was some typical breakfast complaining.  The usual "where's the eggs" quickly progressed into a not so typical "I bet the girls aren't so ugly at IHOP either."  I quickly and thankfully decided to take over the table from my trainee.  She was exhibiting all the classic signs of "help me."

Now usually - meaning had I not had a trainee - I would have taken the time to write down all the little gems this old man decided to tell us.  But I didn't write anything down so we'll have to rely on my brain.  Sorry for all the things you're going to miss.

• "You (meaning me) look forty-eight and she (meaning my trainee) looks ten."
• "Why are you all so ugly here?!"
• "Did you just forget to wax your mustache today?"
• "The only thing good here is my sandwich."
• "Give me more beer, I'm trying to make you pretty."
• "Of course you should take my plate, I'm trying to get you to do your job."
• "You seem awful good at standing around."
• "Of course I don't love my wife."
• "I'd put you right to work if you know what I mean."
• "I'd ask for your phone number, but I'd never call you."
• "Well my wife only hit me with the frying pan twice."  (It was confirmed by the nicer, younger guest that this was in fact true)
• "I don't want to know a darn thing about you thinking."

And unfortunately that's all I can remember.  I'm forgetting at least 50-75% of what he said.  The memory loss of a 25-year-old is a real bitch.  Oh and he did snap at me to get my attention which is quite possibly one of my biggest pet peeves ever.  Luckily I work at Hooters.  This means I can throw shit back at people - who don't seem to mind and are generally cool of course.  This means that in response to said snapping I got to say, "I have a name you know and though I'm sure you can't read, I did write it on the napkin in front of you."  This is why I love Hooters. 

Now before you get all defensive and say I should never talk to a customer like that, I let you know that both young, nice guy and old, not-so-nice guy ate that shit right up.  Old guy and I exchanged insults with the greatest of ease.  You see, even with his very serious demeanor it became obvious fairly quickly that, most of the time, old guy was joking.  It also became obvious that old guy appreciated a woman who could dish it right back.  I had read my table like a true pro.  My trainee was in awe.

Finally, after many a cut had been delivered, the gentlemen were ready to leave and young guy decided to pay, leaving exact cash for the ticket.  He then gave us each a twenty-dollar bill.

Young Guy:  "Thanks for being such good sports.  Most waitresses would have ignored us completely with most of his remarks.  It's his first time here and he loved it.  I really appreciate it."

Old Guy:  "Yeah, I like a little frisk to my ladies.  Wanna come home and meet my wife?"

I love my job.

Please remember to vote everyday for me in the Hooters Costume Contest on Facebook!  CLICK HERE TO VOTE!

Hooters Girls Explain Football

This is entertaining.  I have a sneaking suspicion that they may have done some creative editing to make them seem like they know even less than they actually do.  Whatever.  Either way it's pretty hilarious.



Oh and the cute blonde in the sky blue Hooters owl shirt is Raechel Holtgrove.  She helped open our store and is a totally awesome and hilarious and Miss Hooters 2009 and gorgeous.  Ugh, perfect people.