That meant I'd have to go back to that place where I wasn't exactly revered, or even liked that much (if you need a refresher or a crash-course in my trials at that place, they're all chronicled in my posts from September of last year). I didn't leave on the best terms, either, having given a fill-in manager a letter of resignation & a hug for being nice.
I get out there & ask the bartender with dreads (I love her hair) to see the manager for my W-2. I'm hoping it's one of the nicer managers. Of course it isn't. It's the short one who glares all the time. I'm surprisingly not upset & shake his hand & his reception to me could have used some work (eh, whatever). He gives me the number of the place I need to call to get a re-print W-2 & I thank him. Trying to make small-talk, I asked how he was doing & he was like, "Good" & just kind of walked off. On my way out I started talking to the bartender, until Napoleon Complex comes up & stands around, acting like he's trying to intimidate me into leaving. I just rolled my eyes called it a night.
At least I handled myself well.
Edit: It turns out that my parents did get my W-2 & didn't realize it because I've worked at 3 Applebee's in the past year. So I'm viewing my little trip out to Wellington, FL as a source of closure.