My table made me cry.

I admit it. My table made me cry. Me, hardened, jaded 1000 yrs in the biz. I will save the sordid details for my memoirs. But I confess this because it exposed my soft underbelly of caring. It made me remember how much I care about people. I telling you to know it's good to care. It means you are good at your job. 

 We are not all pithy, sarcastic Buzz Feed/ Facebook meme of bartenders and servers, ranting and telling others what not to do in bars. 

I cried because I care. Because what I do matters to me. And I am ok with that.  It makes me good at my job. And I still love people. Even if sometimes they make me cry.