“Bringing food to people for cash on the holidays is its own special level of hell. Nothing quite reminds you of the pure and unadulterated suckage of your life like the sound of other people having fun,or what appears to be fun, or even if it isn’t fun certainly isn’t running interference between people and their filet mignon and béarnaise sauce. on culturally mandated days of fun-having. It’s no small wonder why waiters get bitterer than badly cooked broccoli rabe, given enough time. That loud rush you hear in your ears as you’re steaming the milk for that privileged bitch at table eight’s cappuccino isn’t the machine’s steam; it’s the sound of exactly how badly your life sucks ass.”
–NYC blogger Chelsea Girl, writing on why stripping on Christmas (“Being the It Girl at the Best Party on Earth”) is better than slinging plates.