I could have gone surfing today

So... I could have gone surfing today. Here I sit. On my day off. I have driven all over the place today, and yet I feel like I've gotten very little accomplished. I ate crap today, or should I say "McCrap"? I almost spent a ton of loot on a car too. I am glad that I didn't spend the $. I am not happy about the McCalories and the McFat I ingested. Oh well. So I knew I wanted to buy a particular car. er... SUV. I knew that the one I wanted would be a bit more challenging to procure, but i knew I could do it. I searched the papers and internet and found what I was looking for. It was in a town about and hour and twenty minutes away. I called the dealer and told them I would be in on Monday. He called me back yesterday and asked where I was. I reminded him that I said MON-day not SUN-day and he said "So you're not coming today?" "That's correct dude." "So you ARE coming today then?" "No Brah. You are correct in your assumption that I will NOT be coming to see you today." "So you're NOT coming then?" "You're breaking up dude." And I hung up. So I went to see him today. When I got there, I passed 14 other car dealerships. Like the food court in the mall, but for cars. I scanned each lot frantically for another SUV like the one I wanted, you know, to have an option. Nothing came to view, but then again, I was worried about hitting the car in front of me so I didn't look too hard. When I got into the showroom, the dude came out. I shook his hand and looked at his shoes. (You can tell a lot about a person by their shoes.) He led me across the lot. As we were walking, I heard a crackle sound and watched as his arms shot up in the air and started waving frantically as he slipped in a pile of muddy sludge. Then he stopped and looked at his foot. I mean, he stared at it, incredulously. Then he moved on like nothing happened. I said "Yeah, I'm pretty excited too." We got to the car, opened the door and I was hit in the face with the wafting odor of wet dog. I looked at him and he squinted a bit, but then he regained his straight face. "You don't smell that I guess?" I said. "Smell what sir?" he replied. I put on an Irish accent and said "The dead carcass that seems to be playin' hide -n- go find meh under one of dees seats laddie". "I'm sure it's just a bit musty from the window being cracked... you know... with all this rain and all..." "Or maybe it's the sludge on your shoe?" I whispered. We drove the car around and I took it for a few miles down the road. I was happy to be in it. I love the car after all. When we returned, I went to the desk. I told him I would like to finance about 4,000. That's all. I would like to pay it back in about 6 months. I just want to stimulate my credit. I would be paying cash for the majority of the vehicle. He went to the computer and asked me to wait for a moment. When he returned, he put down a piece of paper that showed me the "deal" he was prepared to offer. It worked out to a repayment plan of 10,824.00. On a 4,000.00 loan. Yeah. Really. I spoke calmly and succinctly, like Agent Smith in The Matrix, when I said "I drove here from the beach for this?" "Really?" (Maybe it was more like The Godfather.) Then there was this "Blah Blah Blah" from him and I started to gather my stuff. He begged me to stay for a moment and said that this was only a "worse case scenario" offer. What did that even mean? Two trips to the back and the finance manager came out. He knew he was losing me and called out the big guns. This guy was truly no better. I left them with their dicks in their hands and their mouths open. I feel bad. I drove all they out there and back, test drove a car that I will never buy and filled my face with McCrapplesteins. The irony is that they are probably sitting there, right now, having a beer at the local strip joint, calling me the asshole. I could have gone surfing today.

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Here comes the cool weather. Look! It's right over th- HERE!

I really like the summer. Not gonna lie. It's my favorite. Year-round summer is fine with me. When the wind gets a bit cooler, and the nights are a bit cozier, I guess I'm cool with that too. Since my last car was stolen, 6 months after I paid it off, I have put the purchase of a new one on the back burner. So far back in fact, it was on a different stove. With the rides on the motorcycle becoming less than inviting, especially when it gets to be 40 degrees outside, I have been entertaining the thought of 4 wheels more so these days. I took a trip to the car dealer, as you may have read in my last blog, and was very disappointed with the way I was treated. That saga is a screenplay in itself. I ended up going back, making a deal and buying the SUV after all. Then, three weeks later, they called me up, said the bank fell through at the requested interest rate, and I would need to sign a new deal. I shit my pants when they said the new interest rate was TRIPLE what it was when I signed. Slick bastards. Back and forth on the phone and with a blister on my calculator finger, I made a new deal. The deposit was taken and the car is now officially mine. I found a puddle of "fluid" on the driveway underneath her this morning too. How'm I doin'? I did have the chance to get some friends in on my radio show this past Friday. Some dudes I met at the computer repair place offered to stream it for me. That was cool. Hawaii, Cali, Tennessee, Georgia, Florida and others got to stop by. That was fun. My job is selling out. That is to say, they are franchising out the location. Being at the top of the food chain in my restaurant, I may be jobless in January. The president of the company stopped by a week or two ago and actually shook my hand as he met me, for the first time, and said "Welcome aboard". I just looked at him and said "Seriously?" I guess the door must close once again, for it to reopen elsewhere. I've got the day off today. I went to the roller rink last Sunday, with my girlfriend's 8 year old, and had a blast. I have the fever to go again, but she is not home this weekend. I am truly bummed. I really enjoyed last weekend and hope to get to go next week. I got my start in roller rinks. First job. First girlfriend. First kiss. First drunk. First time behind the Mic. Speed skating national team. Foosball. Video games. Balance. Music knowledge. All of it. My life was focused around the roller rink for a good twelve years.I would not be a DJ on the radio now if I hadn’t have gotten the experience then.

I walked in there, last Sunday, with the little one, and it all came back. My good friend Rene, who lives in Reddington Beach, also went back to our roots on the same day. - Unbeknown to me. I called him on the way back home to tell him but he was excited to tell me that he had just been skating, for the first time in years. I laughed as said I had just done the same. Good times. I need to get outside into this cool air. 73 degrees. I am ready for a ride on the crotch rocket with my Mp3 grooving in my helmet. Enjoy the fall my friends. aloha

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The always-open door.

I like to eat out. I really do. I’m in the restaurant business, and I’m sure that has a lot to do with it, but I don’t think that’s the only reason. I think it may have something to do with the fact that I wasn’t given the opportunity as a child to grace the local eateries very often. Going out to eat, in fact, was so rare and so special, I would become quite exuberant at the slightest hint of a night out.

I would pay close attention to every detail. The table setting and plateware were always carefully examined and I scrutinized the servers like a drill sergeant inspecting his troops. I loved the ambience and the smells from the kitchens. The owners would often come by to say hello to our table and friends with friends stopped by to talk to my Dad. They all had skinny glasses filled with brown liquid and a cherry. My "Roy Rogers" was always a bit darker and one could hardly see the cherry. I so wished to be grown up then.

I’m grown up now, in the physical at least, and have found myself in the same state of infatuation. I enjoy the restaurant. I like the clinking of glassware and the smells that emanate from the grills, stoves and steamers. I like the ever changing faces that repeat in rare patterns, often teasing my memory by hiding amongst new hats and hairdos. I like the shiny floors and carefully placed lighting. The crisp whites of the Chef and the wink of the Bartender remind me that this is all a carefully executed plan. Controlled chaos. This is my grown up world now. I choose to be enveloped by the place I was developed.

I have been in this game for a long time. 20 years give or take. Whod’a thunk it? I took my first job at Kentucky Fried Chicken, in 1984. It lasted only a month. Then to Chili’s, for another month. Then to Olive Garden. That lasted 8 months. They taught me how to carry a tray, open a bottle of wine, champagne and beer. How to serve from the right and take from the left. How to write a check, how to ring a check and how to be obsequious when dropping the check. How to carry plates, wash plates and how to clean up the plates I dropped. I learned about food preparation, food storage and rotation. How to have a clean shirt, clean shave and clean hands. I learned about after work parties, before work hangovers and how smoking pot ten minutes before my shift would be the harbinger of a night in the weeds.

Over the years, I have had made hundreds and hundreds of friends in this business. I have met countless celebrities and even claimed to be related to one. I have climbed the ladder from the bottom to the top. I have jumped back down, on occasion and have jumped back up when the timing was right. That’s the beauty of this business: Someone, somewhere, will always be interested in replacing a piece of shit that works for them in some capacity. Therein lies the always-open door. Right time, right smile, right choice of words. Honed skill, strong work ethic, pleasant disposition, fresh breath, clean clothes and a rapier wit. There are plenty of us out here. We love to laugh, love to hustle and love to have friends to vent to. We help each other move, help each other with rides and will even offer our services in the booty call department. Some of us are more motivated by this than others mind you, and often find themselves in search of new employment on a regular basis. Many of us like booze. Many like drugs. Plenty like both and they too, move on like David Banner at the end of every episode of the Incredible Hulk. Thumb out and walking backward on the highway of life. Yup. Plenty of friends I have known in this business. I hope to make plenty more.

The door always opens for me. When the time is right. I move to a new building, where the faces are new, but the personalities are the same. I find myself reminded of others, from years ago, in the faces I meet today. Both on the employee side, and the guest side. The things that remain constant are the smells from the grills, the sunlight through the windows and the laughter from the dining room - and the kitchen.

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Nice Cans !

I have the day off today. These days are so few and far between it would seem. I have the whole day to do the things I want and need to do, and yet I can’t seem to be pulled away from the interior of the house. The cats are happy to sit on me, as if I have become a piece of furniture. The vibrating massage chair for felines.

I did manage to get up and get the rubbish collected and out the door for the once a week garbage limo that saunters down my lane every Monday. I think the guy that collects it outwardly hates my can. He seems to molest and dismember it every Monday. I find the lid across five front yards and the handle somewhere in the tree that seems to be the only mute witness to the weekly atrocities. My mother would put cookies and a cup of cocoa or coffee out there sometimes. I thought that was ridiculous on numerous levels. Who would eat cookies without washing their hands? Who would hang off the back of a garbage truck with a snickerdoodle in their teeth and steamy cup of chocolate with mini-marshmallows in their funk-covered glove. How would they know it was for them anyway? What? Leave a note? "Eat me." ?? "This is for you guys." ?? You Guys who?? How do they know it wasn’t a note that got thrown away? If you put a bag of cookies on top of a garbage can, who would eat them? Put it on a separate little table next to the can? Really? They would just think that it’s garbage too and more than likely thow the table in the back of the truck as well! Wouldn’t you? I mean, who’s expecting someone to leave a plate of cookies for the garbage guy? Not MY freekin’ garbage dude, I’ll tell you that right now! He’s too busy practicing for the frisbee golf tournament with the lids to everyones cans!

I worked on thanksgiving. No big whoop. I cooked 11 turkeys, carved 11 turkeys and made enough mac-n-cheese, stuffing and gravy to sink a battleship. I did nibble at the birds I was cutting, I must admit, but never sat down at got jiggy with it, per se.

I am planning to go back home to Kona in January. Back with my friends and their new restaurant endeavor. I am really looking forward to being home and being part of a team that really cares about what they are doing. Not to mention surfing in my old spot!!

I will miss my radio show tremendously. I have quite a fan base built up and quite an extensive collection of music for it. The radio station I was on in Kona has been sold I will not be on the air anymore. That’s a bummer. I guess it’s best not to think about it.

I went roller skating yesterday. I took Diana’s kids and had a blast. We all had such a good time we planned on going every chance we have. Roller skating is like ice cream: Lots of smiles and very few complaints!

I need to get my ass in gear. I have lots of things to do and very little time to do it. I count the hours in the day I have left like people count the hours of sleep they’ll get if they went to bed NOW.

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On the Eve...

My foot's asleep. It wakes up about as fast as I do in the morning. It stays tingly while it decides if this is the real deal or just a false alarm. When it realizes that it really does need to get up, it thumps and tingles hard. Then it gets kinda cold. Then, like it was never asleep, it tries to get a cup of coffee. That's the weird part. So. Christmas eve. Should I capitalize eve? Does it have it's own persona, this eve? I mean, Christmas gets the big "C". That reminds me of the time when I was given a freebie on my spelling test in 5th grade. The word, for extra credit, was Christmas. I tanked it with a double s on the end. Christmass. I was the only one in the class. What an ass. No dessert for me. I had to stop at the store on my way home from work today. I needed to get some last minute stocking stuffers. This time it was lottery tickets. And a six-pack of Kona Longboard. Someone poked the freak-nest with a stick in there too. I mean, the place was filled with all the last minute shoppers. I am not one to stereotype, not generally, but the most common denominators in there were pajama bottoms and neck tattoos. I have nothing against neck ink, but it was like being at a convention of bad side - of - the - neck art. And a sleepover. I thought it was funny, many years ago, to go to the store in my plaid sleep pants. That was when they first came out and I was making a statement for comedy. I must have fit in because all I bought was lottery tickets and beer. I shoulda just took off my pants and cruised around nodding at everybody. "Oh yeah... Gonna scratch-n-sip ya'll!" Eve? Does the eve get a special nod? I mean, New Year's Eve is more important than New Year's Day - right? I have to work tomorrow. I guess I should be grateful to have a job when so many do not. Nah. Still not happy about working on the Big Day. I would love to see some family, see some friends, yuk it up a bit. I guess I will have time for that when I get home. I hope there is still some merriment to be had in the afternoon. Merry Christmass everyone. Happy Christmass Eve!

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In your face!

Whilst shopping online for my friends and family, I came across a really cool gadget that I have been looking for. It is an interface for a cassette deck and turntable. It allows the sound to be recorded onto my computer. I can finally get rid of all the tapes I have stacked up! Another cool attribute is that I can record the old songs and rarities I have collected over the years and play them on the air during my radio show. I have some old Cure, Depeche Mode, They Might Be Giants and China Crisis I would love to play right away. I guess the only negative side is that I have to sit and record all this stuff. I have years worth of music and feel like it’s gonna take years to record it all. Well, at least I only need to do it once. It’s kinda like switching out photos into a new album. Only a lot longer. And using your ears instead of your eyes. No. It’s not like switching out photo albums at all really.

My job is becoming more challenging every day. The company is being bought out by another restaurant chain and our days are numbered. The employees know that and have been increasingly defiant. The apathy is spreading like a grass fire. Even my subordinate managers have a touch of the "I don’t cares". That is making it harder on the rest of us to get the job done. People are coming in late, leaving early, not cleaning up and sometimes just not showing up at all. Some are hoping to get fired for poor performance so as to collect unemployment insurance. The hiring pool has been thinned due to rumor of our closing. Not to mention the fact that we require a criminal background check and hair drug test. Even for dishwashers. Yeah, I know.

I had a situation with a pain in the ass customer last week. This guy keeps coming in and causing a ruckus. He cusses at the employees, bangs his cup on the table, stands up and yells throughout the dining room like he’s Paul fricken Revere. "The British are coming! I need more coffee! The British are coming!" The first time I walked past him, he said the color of my shirt "looked like shit". Then he bragged about how he tells everyone the "way it is". I let it go. Again and again, I let it go. Then I found out that he had been banned from returning to many other restaurants in town. When one of the servers came to me and said that he was in the dining room, screaming at the top of his lungs, I went out there. He was sitting down, so I sat next to him. I leaned over and said "Is this the point where I ask you to leave?" He pointed to his hearing aid and leaned in. I said it again: "Is this the point where I ask you to leave?"

"You only know half the story!" He quipped.

"I don’t care." I snipped back.

He leaned forward and placed the tip of his sausage finger less than an inch from my nose. With the stalest breath and gruffest voice he said "You step outside right now... and I’ll break you!"

I paused for a moment - then I stood up. "Okay. Let’s go then." I said. A look of bewilderment overtook his expression. I stood up behind his chair and made a gesture of welcoming someone into the house. He stood up and headed for the door. I walked in front of him. As I got to the front door, I stopped at the phone and called the police. He just continued out the door. I told the police the story and they said a patrol was on their way. I waited inside. He came back in a few moments later and returned to his seat. When the officer arrived, I met him at the door and explained the situation. He met the man and told him to come outside with him. The man said "I ain’t signin’ nothing" and followed the cop. He stopped in front of me and said "I’ll be back to get you!" I said nothing. I just gave him stink-eye. The officer gave him a trespass warning and told me he was just a crazy old man. I hung the warning in the office and thought that would be the end of it.

Boy was I wrong.

Dude came back again. He yelled at the manager on duty and left. Then he came back again to speak with my boss. My boss told him not to come back. He came back again anyway. He yelled at one of my other managers. I called the police again. They said they needed to catch him on the property. An officer came out and made a complaint against him with an affidavit signed by me and one of my assistant managers. The cop said he had quite a history of this around the area.

We already knew that.

Then he came back again. I missed that one. The next time though, Saturday, I was front and center. He was out front, pouring himself a cup of coffee when an employee came and got me. I went straight to the phone and called the 5-0. I told him he was not allowed inside and he called me "Nuts". I walked away from him and went outside to wait for the Sheriff. I called my District Manager to let her know I had a situation on my hands with an unstable dude. He walked out the door and started to come up behind me. I hung up the phone and turned to see him holding a cup of hot coffee in his hand with no lid. He was coming at me so I backed up. I pointed to the cup and said "Don’t even think about it!" He was yelling at me, telling me he was allowed inside and I told him he was not. He said he would bet me $50.00 he was, and tried to reach into his pocket to take money out. I kept walking away from him, never taking my eye off of the steaming coffee cup. He kept following me around the sidewalk, calling me boy and telling me he would "mess me up". Then he said "How would you like this cup of hot coffee in your face?" I kept backing up. I pointed at him and said "Stop right there or I will Fuck you up!" "I will Fuck you up old man!"

He walked toward me and in an instant, like a flash from Kung Fu Theater, I knocked the cup out of his hand and pushed him away from me. He stumbled backward with a look of shock and then, like a raging bull, he put his head down and charged at me. I braced for impact and shoved him back again. "Stop!" I yelled at him.

Then a woman, who had been sitting in her parked car, came across the walkway, yelling at me for pushing an old man! "What?!"

"He was gonna throw hot coffee at my face! Didn’t you hear him?" I yelled back.

Then the old man said "No I wasn’t..."

He reminded me of Dr. Evil on Austin Powers. "What?... no... what?..."

"You were attacking him!" she said.

Since the police weren’t there yet, I had no choice but to go back inside. I went to the phone and called my DM back. A few moments later, my assistant came to me and said that the police wanted to talk to me. I told them what happened. The officer asking the questions just so happened to be the same guy that came out the first time. The same cop that was standing there when the old man said "I’ll be back to get you!" He knew the trouble we’ve been having with him and said that he’d come back to talk to me if he needed to.

I went back inside.

That was two days ago and I still have the adrenaline coursing through me.

I received a phone call yesterday morning. My boss told me that he called up there to say he was pressing charges against me.

Classic.

So I am in the middle of recording my cassettes to mp3 files. I am also recording my radio shows, so I can listen to the music later. That’s the weird part. Listening to myself on the air. I don’t think I am very funny and don’t really care for my voice. I am very critical of myself and wonder why I am saving this shit anyway? Oh well. I can always delete them later if I wish.

So I go back to work tomorrow. I have no idea what to expect. I wish they would hurry up and sell the joint so we can all get on with the rest of our lives.

As for today? Music and food should soothe the savage breast.

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Silver hair at the silver screen.

I have not had a lot of time to do much of anything lately - outside of working. When I do have a few hours to spend, doing as I will, I head to the new movie theater. I’ve had the chance to see a bunch of new movies over the past three months and I must say I am not any worse for wear. I have watched blue people fly on the wings of dragons, teenagers turn into giant canines, and Mel Gibson save the day yet once again. I have witnessed Meatballs the size of Volkswagens fall from the sky, the invention of the first untruth and I have seen Sherlock Holmes make it seem all too elementary. It was $8.00 to get in. That’s to be expected. The diet coke and a small popcorn came to $10.50. I agreed to give myself some nookie after the show and it was affirmed consensual.

That's the good part. The thing that kept running through my mind today though was SHHHHHH !!! Yeah. You guessed it - Old People in the seats behind me - again. For some unknown reason, people think that the theater is an extension of their living room. They carry on like they’re watching Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy. Kibitzing and small-talking their way through the plot and the character development. This poses a problem, at least for me.

It’s not the fact that I could turn around and say; "Shh" or "Shut up" or "Do you mind?" or "What the frigg old lady?" or "Jesus Hector Christ on a popsicle stick!!" I mean, anyone can do that. My problem is the after. After I say it, I have to sit and wallow in it. The rest of the film will not be enjoyable for me because I will keep my arms folded against my chest and an ear on the Ben Gay pirates behind me. I have to be ready for them to start up again, and will have had to formulate a counterstrike to the verbal volley they will undoubtedly be postulating behind me. Of course, at that time, I would not only be speaking up for myself, but for my fellow patrons situated within earshot. ‘Union rep’ for the rest of us. Excuse me while I clasp my hands and shake them over each shoulder. Fact of the matter is, no one voted me into this position and as far as I am concerned, my telling the octogenarians to "Pipe down" is, in itself, adding more decibels to the mix. So today, I just turned around and gave them stink-eye.

When the movie ended, I really wanted to follow them out and chastise them. Then I thought that I might be perceived as a bully. Especially after what went down at work with the old man last month. Guess you need to read my previous blog to get the skinny on that one. So I walked the other way, got into my car, and drove home.

I have to say that I am quite surprised that we still have bad actors. I mean, with all the time and energy put into casting and with all the competition that’s out there, I’m baffled at how many bad actors are still up on that giant screen. The 12 year old that lives in this house, is better at faking tears, acting surprised and palming a late night snack then any of the actors I paid to see today. Hell! The guy that talked me into a transmission fluid flush in lieu of a simple oil change this morning was better at making me believe danger was just around the corner than the director of the 38 million dollar film the two old people behind me talked through this afternoon. "Is that the daughter?" "Yes" "But I thought the daughter was dead?" "She is."

"So How can that be the daughter?"

"It’s a flashback."

"A what?"

"A flashback."

"Where?"

"There."

"Where?"

"There!"

"I thought it was the daughter..."

"It IS the daughter!"

Click- Click - BOOM!

Make my own movie! Yeah. Movies are cool. Old people that talk in them? Not so much.

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