#fuckingobsessed #whenwillthehashtagsend? #drinkmybeerbeforeicry #xanax

25 Aug

Tonight’s post is going to have to be extremely brief because I’m totally distracted and like literally completely obsessed with getting Instagram followers for the restaurant and I’ve been working on this sentence for 3 hours. Damn you, interesting Facebook conversations, text messages, iMessages, iChats, movies starring Jason Bateman and Ryan Reynolds, raspberry peach Briemere Farms pie, IMs, new hipster pizza places that I found on the internets, #Instafriends, #Instaphotos, #Instaenemies. I feel like my life has turned into one ginormous hashtag. I’ll never look at tic tac toe the same. Hashtagging is literally a huge component to the de-evolution of society. It feels like yesterday that we started shortening the word “you” when we wrote our away messages, and now we’re suddenly typing “#ESB” in some blank space on our phone to be consequently SLAMMED with realtime photos, videos and news about a shooting outside a building in a huge city, making this big world the size of an iPhone (or Android, if you’re a loser). #crazyhowthisworldischanginglikefasterthanyoucanreadthisblogpost

Also, I’m freaking out about the craft beers. I started the list tonight and sold a whopping ONE, (to one of my employees but it still totally counts) yet I’m so excited that you might mistake me for a Bat Mitzvah girl, not just a pretty restaurant owner. I did weird things with the beer like talk to people about hops and drink a bottle of stuff that didn’t taste like water. I organized the beer cooler and fondled each of the beautiful new bottles and read the labels and had an Instagram photo shoot. I spent so much time in the cooler that when I cut my hand open on a piece of glass and I had to leave it to get a BandAid, my glasses fogged up and I fell up the stairs.

I LOVE MY NEW BEERS.

But that’s where the panic starts to set in. What if nobody else does? What if I only have 20 #Instafollowers FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE??? What if people see the fancy beer and see the Corona and say “That’s nice, but I’ll just stick with the Corona.” What if that really happened tonight?

In this fit of anxiety is where I found myself frantically signing up for every online beer thingy that ever existed, namely some thing called beermenus.com where you input your whole selection and what size glass you’re using and whatever and they organize it for you and make you easy to find. And there’s even an app! Like, if you’re on an app, you’re golden. It makes you super fancy. And then someone Likes my link to the post and even though I know it’s my hostess using her phone in the bathroom, I still consider myself a smashing success and I give myself a promotion.

Just so you know, I’m going to be writing a new blog, sort of related to shelbytown except I’m going to be associating it with the restaurants so I can’t say things like about how much I fucking hate so many of my customers. (Just kidding! I only hate like a couple. And probably it isn’t you.) I’ll keep you posted, and if you want to read about boring things like recipes and interviews with bartenders, you can indulge. But don’t worry, I’ll still be writing about the sex lives of line cooks here.

#instaseeyalater

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