As for Lola, He was carted off by the police a few days later. I did, however, run into him in the local store. He came up to me wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, completely hairless to tell me he got a job as a roofer. I'm sure that is a much safer environment what with only the tools and hanging out 30 feet in the air.
The restaurant business is tough, like many others. There is a constant parade of employees, strange or otherwise, parading through with ever increasing demands in pay due to the shortages in staff. The ever increasing cost of food, getting it to us and just running the place. But the difference is customers still do not want to pay more for their food. Sure, maybe once in a while splurge, but most restaurants can't survive being a once and a while place. We have been getting weekly increases on staples such as flour, eggs and shipping costs but yet our prices stay the same. It's tough.
But what about sustainability, unprocessed, organic, local. That's what we do at home almost exclusively. I see the restaurant struggle to make a profit and see how buying Alberta beef or Fraser Valley chicken makes a big difference to the bottom line but it just seems so wrong when we have it all at our doorsteps by people who are trying to farm sustainably. I know it's an easy position for me to take only paying the bills with other people's money but it's a position my family and I really believe in and want to promote but yet I make my living doing otherwise. It sucks.
I decided to change my blog because, frankly, my life is beautiful and calm and not particularly entertaining. My job, however, can be quite.
Have you ever been asked my a 6'5'', 300 lb man if you could apply his makeup for him? Now, I have.
Restaurants are always looking for dishwashers. They come and go faster than the week's fish special. I don't know why. There's been many a night where I would give anything to be the dishwasher. Peacefully going about your job and watching a mountain of dirty dishes transform into a sparkly pile. I think it is because it tends to be a lonely job preformed by randy teenage boys who want anything but to be alone with only the occasional lusty buss girl dumping another load by.
The weekend before last we had just such a specimen in covered with tatoos with his pants half way down his ass sporting a bit of an attitude and for the second weekend in a row phoned with a tale of woe as to why he couldn't come in Friday night so despite a fully loaded reservation book for the next night we had to fire him.
Then next morning a guy came in asking if we needed a dishwasher. My boss, who happened to be cooking at the time, and desperately trying to come up with a plan for who we could con into coming dishwash that evening, was thrilled and threw out some standard questions, do you have a resume? Have you ever dishwashed before? It turns out buddy hasn't worked for 8 years due to his severe schizophrenia. But he assurred us he hadn't had an "epsiode" in six months. Good enough. Start tonight.
Well all was pretty fine. He did a great job, if a little creepy. The next day, pretty much the same, with a little more creepy thrown in. Then last night. I was working by myself and tatoo guy comes in demanding his cheque trying to be all intimidating so I finally get rid of him while still running back and forth to my various tables. I am in the back getting some coffee for some customers and Creepy comes in the kitchen all excited asking me to make a reservation for him for next week. So I take him out to the reservation book and ask what day, what time and he is literally hopping from foot to foot, bouncing up and down.
"It's a first date, it has to be real romantic"
OK
"No really romantic, it's with Phil"
I keep writing
"Did you hear me, it's my first date with Phil"
Great
"You didn't know I was that way did you, did you?"
No but whatever
"Yes, it's my first date with Phil, I want it to be really romantic with candles but he is kind of shyandheiscomingovertonightandIlitcandlesandit'smyfirstdatewithPhil. But Don't tell anyone"
okay
A little while later I am serving dessert to woman who smells worse than any smell I have ever smelled and I am forced to hold my breath when the door bursts open again and 6"5, 300 lb Creepy is there again. Great.
"Ummm I was just wondering if you were working on the Tuesday when I'm coming for my first date with Phil?"
No, I'm thankfully off that night
"Cause I'm going to wear a dress and I need someone to do my makeup for me"
me trying desperately to hide my expression
Now I should just say here, I personally have no problem with C, or anyone else for that matter, wearing a dress where ever he likes but we live in a conservative, little village where the predominate industry consists of logging with a dash of tourism and two elite very conservative international private schools. I can not imagine any man wearing a dress anywhere in the community unless it was accompanied by a sporran.
"Cause if you were working I could just come in early and you could do my makeup for me, but since you're not maybe you could just come to my house and do my makeup cause I want to look beautiful"
"Well......first of all, I'm not really a make up sort of girl and I have a family and we're pretty busy on our days off so...no"
"Do you think maybe one of the other girls could do it for me cause I have all the make up and everything I just want to look beautiful"
At this point I was contemplating the look on my boss's face when Creepy comes in for dinner that night with his dress and lipsticked moustache. I'm slightly tempted to leave it at that but think better of it.
"Ya know C, we're just not that kind of restaurant and I'm worried you might feel a little uncomfortable. It's probably not a good idea"
"I won't feel uncomfortable, I like wearing a dress and I look very beautiful in it"
"I'm sure you do but maybe you could save that for a special surprise for later in the date, hmmm"
"I won't feel uncomfortable"
I just can't take anymore at this point and I'm starting to notice that irritated, desperate look of wanting for something eminating from smelly so I tell Creepy I've got to go and thankfully he leaves. So now I have to figure how to dissuade gargantuan Creepy from princessing up for dinner by next Tuesday.
WorkWorkKidsDriveRunKidsVolleyballGuitarRunKidsWorkWorkKidsRunWorkDriveKidsWorkWork.....Repeat.
We are a little over a week into resolutions and promises and so far so good. Not surprisingly, mostly health oriented both physical and mental. I'm going to be, gulp, thirty five this year and I really wanted to accomplish a few things that I seem to repeat over and over that I would like to do but never have so....Steve, the kids and I are training for a 10 k run in April. We are on week two of the program and we are all, much to our astonishment, enjoying it.
In a couple hours I am heading off to my first guitar lesson.
Last night I went and played in a recreational drop in volley ball league, I haven't played for seventeen years. It was SO much fun. I'm sure I looked like a complete idiot diving around out there with this ridiculously huge smile on my face for the whole hour and a half. I had to arnica most of my body today but whatever. The most amazing part was when I got home I went in to read to the kids feeling fantastic, fooling around with them and I could see surprise and a sort of internal relaxing happening inside the kids which made me realize how uptight I have been for the last while. I know I have been, that feeling of having your insides twisted and tied in knots so tight and tense that I walk around constantly irritated. I hate that. I hate that my family bears the brunt of that. They are so wonderful and patient and tolerant. I adore them.
