The Batshit Packages
They stopped when I told him off, which was fine, they were getting to be a bit much, a lot of unwrapping of rubbish and treasure maps and rocks and chewed up gum and twine, shoelaces, a hundred rubber bands, used coffee cups and bits of kleenex...unwrap, take to garbage.
Possibly I could monetize them, make "Unboxing Batshit" videos on YouTube, share my general distaste and horror, the "art" aspect of them has generally disappeared, I was a little too close to him, he stopped trying:
For example, the last package:
A sculpture he made with kleenex, rock, candlewax and rubber bands.
Old vitamins and bits of food in a can...
an annotated page from "Franklin".
A note and reference to a treasure map...
The most sensible piece so far. And a piece of bubblegum holding it all together.
A food hamper of partially eaten cakes topped with hand picked flowers and a soggy cigarette. "Monroe Gold and Rouge". Uh-huh.
4 gems from a pirate ship. One appears to be a ball bearing.
Another sculpture with glass gems, readable scrolls, and a "Knights of the Emeralds" VHS tape.
more childrens books and errant notes fueling his deranged imagination...
The best one so far, a rant for my daughter..."Save this" I tell her: "One day it will be worth a fortune".
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Homeless
My patience is exhausted.
The waiter, the one who got fed up with the Owner's son, don't blame him, we all are, but he spoke his mind and quit and moved to Nelson to live under the Big Orange Bridge.
When I'm in town I keep in touch, buy him coffee, see how the job hunt is going. He's not interested in work, not particularly, he wants to buy a restaurant, get his own show up and running, I spot him 20 bucks for food, a pack of cigarettes, he's hopeless, his priorities completely fucked...
And then there's Batshit, whom I took to the Burlesque, and bought his ticket, and then bought him chocolates, at his insistence, then he gave them away, asked for more, wanted me to buy him this, buy him that, and I did some mental addition and realized he's cost me more the past month than my own kids, and I'm not current with those bills either, and so I told him, not so kindly, to lay off, and he's offended now and ignoring me but I'm kind of loving the break...
In Nelson, for every one person who works there's a dozen that don't and feel they have a claim upon your wallet, and your good nature takes you only so far when you come to town, the highly visible contingents of homeless that party every night and panhandle the day away, and you're every best intention is pissed or smoked away. I give up.
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The Idiot
It's always the same shit, a different pile. The owner's son - Think the Bosses Nephew, only without his intelligence, good looks and charm, he's been dogging it for the last few weeks, working every other day, "Managing" the rest, which is to say in the office talking to his wife on the phone, he misses her, it's been hours, or going upstairs to visit his folks, he misses them, it's been hours as well, and his absence is perhaps the best thing about him. Customers, the ones with brains (not many, not out here), they are quick to note his insincerity, his ... well, -- something's off.
He's never worked in a restaurant other than this, for anyone other than his folks, and so his "experience" is more a lack thereof, and sometimes...sometimes...
They're going to start metering the water, and he warns me to stop giving the customers free glasses of water. I just look at him..."It's all about the costs.." he tries to tell me...
...and then, in the kitchen one day, he's doing cold side, I order a salad, split, and he tells me how much work it is, "I have to put it into two bowls!! TWO BOWLS!!", he warns me to never do it again, and I give him that sustained look of "WTF Buddy, are you an idiot?" but he merely trenches in, digs in a bit deeper, elaborates, he can see my expression, I must be stupid if I can't understand how much work that is and I get that 2 bowls, for him, that's a lot of work ...
He wants to be a politician, a few people, they say he'd be good, they don't mean it kindly, and he complains that he was bullied as a child, I can understand, but his very survival is proof that he wasn't bullied near enough...
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The Favorite
By the director of "The Lobster", whose films seem to be a little more engaging and intelligent than most.
'ResponsiveMedia' plugin by Geoff Hayward.
If, When I get back to civilization, get a place to live, I'm going to have a lot of catching up to do...
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