I work with one very dynamic lady. We crank out the drinks at the bar for 300 or 400+ very thirsty dancers & prancers and oglers & watchers on any given Friday or Saturday night. Yeah, we're busy but there's plenty of time for small chat and the ever-necessary winks & rolling of the eyes. We bump into each other plenty. We laugh plenty. We definitely look forward to the shift drink. And we're plenty tired at the end of the night ... sometime around 2-ish.
I get a ride home, count my money and go to sleep beside my kitty, Iris. Christine goes home to her two young daughters. One of whom is albino.
She's recently sent me these links detailing the killings of people with albinism in Africa. It's become increasingly common. It seems they are seen as ominous symbols of misfortune. Through their massacre and dismemberment, one may receive lucky charms and, it is believed, much good fortune.
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