While I'm no longer working there I still get news from the old restaurant. The one in Balfour. That they hired a new chef, brought him out from Cranbrook, moved him into the basement where Sean OD'd, and it took him under a week to discover that he has cancer.
That whole workplace is toxic AF. If anything would give you cancer, this would be it, no doubt.
And that they hired a new waiter, he works doubles all day Thursday and Monday because JR., he has to be in Cranbrook, he's gotten a "Government Job".
They're making lots of promises to this new waiter, he's going to be manager, in charge, everything, it's his show....
I've heard all this before, but the "Government Job" rather intrigues me, and while I have a theory I think it best to confirm...
I call the mother-in-law.
Now we're laughing and sure enough she confirms my suspicion. His "Government Job" is that he's on-call to stock shelves at the Liquor Store 3 days a week. BCLB. This is the "government job" his mom is bragging about.
I'm all for work, it is - for the vast majority of us - inevitable. But you get it. And BCLB - at best - is paying him $20 an hour. When he gets work. But it's important he be available for if and when they call. And he's already planned a summer vacation, so the job, well, he doesn't want it to get in the way...
This should be compared to the fact that even in the "shoulder" season - adding together wages and tips, and he'd be clearing very close to $50 an hour. Enough, in fact, that if he leaned into it he wouldn't even need to collect EI in the winter, he could haul the family off to Mexico and winter there.
Anyways, we're laughing at the absurdity of it all, about how the more shit changes the more it stays the same.
She's got other news related to the family. This is good. What is it?
Well, JR.'s wife has bought a stripper pole. And while I can't say (it's her daughter, after all) I'm thinking they'd better reinforce the ceiling, because there's no way that girl could get 2 feet off the ground under her own power. Maybe if she were on her back, but you don't need a stripper pole for that...
...oh, and she (the daughter) bought a silicon sex doll. Of a woman. They keep it in their bedroom. She's not happy because it's not very good looking...
...and again, you know what I'm thinking, how fucking great is your marriage that you'd rather have a lesbian affair with a Silicon Sex Doll than sleep with your husband, but - and this is the clincher - I get it.
And I'm laughing and laughing so hard, and she's feeding it, more details, absurd, gruesome, and this catch-up-call, it's killing me, and no sooner than I hang up having resolved to make it a weekly thing than I call Cathy - the other Alumni of Unspeakable Trauma, and share with her what I've found out...
Now, time for me to find work so I can afford to take my broke ass back out to Balfour with a bag of popcorn to sit back and enjoy the show...