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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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Every night, before the shift begin there's the countdown. Franco wants to know how many days there are until vacation.
I tell him. "There are X weeks and Y days".
We argue, he's sure I've got it wrong, there have to be less, and he goes to the calendar and double checks. I'm right. I'm not too bad at remedial math.
I tell him, a heads up, a warning, that I have no intent of returning after the vacation. The vacation is the end. I don't know what I'll do, I only know the job is killing me, that I can't be here day and night any more, that the vacation is the vacation and it's also the end, sometimes he agrees, he hates it too and thinks the same, other times he tells me that I'll never leave, that I'm one of them now, that I'll change my mind after the vacation and I think about another winter here, the 13 and 14 hour days without break or day off over Christmas, think about the cultural void of another missed theater season, think about not seeing the children, and it scares the hell out of me...
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He wants to get a job but he's been too busy and I know what that's like.
We're out for coffee again, we see each other now maybe only once a month, time off, it's hard to come by.
He's broke and so I spot him breakfast, a couple hundred bucks, he's helped me through the same, and we catch up.
Nothing really new, he's been following the oil spill in the Gulf, it was a plan apparently on behalf of BP to kill off all the people in Mexico and the Southern States. Apparently they were attempting to explode a volcano or something, he's not too sure of the details.
And his outlook is greatly improved, Deeprak Chopra has done wonders for his spiritual advancement, he could spend his life studying his teachings...
But there's rent and final notices and other trifles to be dealt with, he needs a job. These are hard times.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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We're having the communal meal and the new dishwasher is giving us the story of her life.
About how she likes older men and was engaged to be married but then came back from college in Vancouver to discover that her fiancee was cheating on her.
It's her first night.
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"You're a cock blocker" he says to me.
I'm simply trying to help the new dishwasher, started tonight, avoid the same pitfall the beautician fell into.
And so when I catch them talking, if I have time, I make sure to relay important messages like:
"You're son called, it was his fourth birthday, he wanted to know why you never want to see him...."
or
"Oh, there's a letter about the child support you haven't paid, they're going to be garnishing your wages..."
or
"The STD clinic called again...."
or
"You're girlfriend called to say the twins need more diapers if you could pick some up after work.."
or
"Did you read about the recall on the penis enlargement pills you've been taking? You should, there are some serious side effects..."
He takes it in good humor, overall, but still he's annoyed.
"You're a cock-blocker" he says to me.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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Sunday we go for lunch at the Lydo in Kensington. The food's lousy, but a big menu, the decor is appalling, but - hey, it's an original 50's diner and that's enough. There isn't much open on Sunday afternoons in Kensington.
So we've got a booth and are waiting for our food and the girl is keeping the conversation rolling along...
"What secret things should I do in my bed tonight...?" She asks out loud, a rhetorical question.
The boy, he just stares straight ahead, he's not saying a word, does not want to get involved....
"Why don't we ask your brother what secret things HE does when he's alone in bed" I offer.
She comes to his rescue.
"I know. He's got a TV and a Wii in his bedroom, he probably plays that....I'm going to ..." And here she mimes herself playing on her DS.
"You're right." I say. "He probably sits up late playing with his Wii..."