- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1947
Saturday night an early departure from work, have to join the boy at the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Which, while tamer than the last one we saw, was also better in a few key ways, namely that they used an actual film (not a DVD), it did, however, miss the crowd-urgings of that anti-Michael J Fox, and crowd participation was not what it should be.
That said, the boy had fun and that's all that matters.
Sunday we start in Kensington, Coffee at the Higher Ground where the boy recognizes a couple of his PDA classmates, a couple of cupcakes from Crave, then off to our film.
Anonymous is the pick of the day, not bad, long, an interesting premise - a rather speculative look at the authorship of Shakespeare's plays, three out of five bananas I'd say, upon further research I'm amazed it's by the same director as 10,000 BC - one of most laughably bad movies I've seen in the past 20 years.
After which we go to Notables - a restaurant of which I've heard some fine things, we start with the crab & shrimp bake and steak tartar, then follow it with Grilled Bison Flank and the Spragg Farms Porchetta.
Now the food is good, the restaurant is busy, there are a dozen staff members all on different errands, and for a moment - just a moment, the 2 hours it takes us to eat dinner, it's life as normal. By normal I mean as it was once upon a time, before moving to the NE, before the various economic tragedies, there's that sense of - well, normalcy.
This is all subjective of course, but since moving to the NE, since working at the restaurant, I've become a regular at some of the worst bars on earth, I know this, it's the demands and expectations of my co-workers, and so while dinner is slow - it's good food, after all, we sit and enjoy the atmosphere.
The boy's pleased, he assures me it's the best meal he's had in a while, the fact is (and this is underlined when the bill comes...) that young men between the ages of 14 and 21 should only be fed at all you can eat buffets. That said there is something about the atmosphere that comes with the food, the non-ethnic, European traditions of cooking that warm the soul, and it's worth the price just to get out of my box, if only for an evening.
It's been a great day, great dinner, I take him home afterwards and make it an early night.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1816
Payday and pa is grouchy, the nephew observes that he's always grouchy on payday, something about having to cut cheques to the staff rankles him to the core of his being.
Most of us just stay out of his way.
The nephew, he's in shit, I can hear it when I arrive at work, the yelling in Italian, and I gather the sense of the conversation from G's input, courteously in English for my benefit. The Nephew drove Gypsy home the night before, only they didn't arrive and Gypsies father began calling pa at home at 1:30, 2:00 in the morning, wondering where his daughter is. And as annoyed as Pa is he can't seem to shake the proud look off of the Nephew's face, finally he's had his way.
Which is a relief, as the unattainable has now been had we can perhaps begin working on a plan to dispose of her, surely he'll be getting bored soon....
We're still auditioning new servers, the new (but so very old) waiter must have the feeling that this will spell his demise, he doesn't let on. A rather homely girl, the Nephew tells me that Pa doesn't want to hire any more pretty girls for fear the Nephew or G will shag them, the hostess has stopped coming into work, her father forbids her, personal issues at home, and so it goes...
Gypsy has made it her personal mission to try and be liked by me. Now all she'd have to do is the tiniest bit of work, something to justify the money we pay her, but that's more trouble than she can bear and so she tries other strategies, trying to ask my advice on personal issues (and I laugh and with a hunched back and diminished stature try to impersonate her and the Nephew's love child...), asking me repeatedly if she's fat (I discreetly don't answer until finally she wears me down, "Not for a marine mammal you're not....but if I spotted you sunbathing on a beach I'd be calling Greenpeace....": Moral - don't ask questions you might not want to hear the answer to....), she tells me she doesn't eat Pork because it tastes like people ("And when did you last eat someone?" I query, and here she blushes and hangs her head...) ...
It's a circus.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2122
Another rare day off, squandered, as it were, in the pursuit of trivial errands.
It's hard, impossible, even, to go out in this, in part the weather, cold and practically winter but without the snow, in part the NE neighborhood that's so bleak it forbids all reasonable exploration, eventually, after much internal wrangling and bargaining I set out.
Now they're trivial, small errands, thrift shops, deposit cheques in bank, dollar store, print off 150 pages of notes to be seriously edited and reorganized, reshaped, I'm not in the mood.
Things get done, and I'm surprised that I scratch any number of things off of my list. And, in addition, I find a fine pair of Georgian Candlesticks (antique, Brass, similar, but not exactly, to a hundred other pairs I have in boxes in the basement), some gaudy "Jesus" ties for a collegue at work - baby Jesus and Joseph, Jesus and John the Baptist, Various scenes from the crucifixion, an excellent gift, a pair of spare work shoes, razor blades, other trifles.
Then home, a much anticipated nap interrupted by an automated call from telus to ensure that I've received my yellow pages in good order. I answer, only because I don't want them calling back. Received and recycled, thank you very much, who uses these anyways?
Now it's late, and I'm starving having neglected to go forage for food in the afternoon, the fridge (predictably) is either a) Empty or b) filled with rotting vegetables.
I don't want to check.
Too lazy to shave and take a shower I abandon plans for a healthy dinner and head up to the neighborhood pub.
It's so bleak. This is a heavy price for laziness, too heavy, I really should have showered, gone further afield, there are much better places to grab a bite to eat....
Home, it's dark, early, the cats rubbing my leg, I've done the recycling, garbage, now time for a movie, "Hobo with a Shotgun", as recommended to me by the Nephew at work. Exactly as I would have imagined, somehow not the inspiration I needed (and where did he get all those shotgun shells? Did he have to buy them? The movie doesn't explain...), some surfing online, there's the printed pages to be gone through and edited, reshaped, this I will do in the office, take my writing off the computer and see if it doesn't somehow improve or make better progress.
Now to work.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1967
While we're in the midst of looking for people to fill out our rather thin looking rota the owner has brought in a friend to help out.
He's never served before, or worked in a restaurant, he's an electrical engineer, but he's about my age, good looking, and he seems to have gotten the hang of it remarkably quickly for someone with no experience.
We're explaining what to do and giving him small details regarding service and seating people and he makes the point:
"You'd seat 2 people at a table for two, common sense"...
I glance meaningfully at the hostess. She's never figured this out, she seats people, on nights we're fully booked, without confirming their reservation and wherever she first happens to trip in the dining room, the size of the table is of no consequence. She understands and looks sheepishly at the floor.
Common sense, yes, but how rare it is...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1760
Now we've been looking for some more staff. Front of house and kitchen. The owner's put an ad up on Kijiji and on Craigslist.
And every day the applicants call and come down.
They're hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
Men and women, all of distinct minorities, accompanied by their brothers/sisters/best friends/co-workers/husband/wife.
People who refuse to speak for themselves and do it instead through a translator or have their friends explain their intent.
This must be a new thing, I've never seen it before, people showing up with their friends to apply for work.
They show up in their work clothes - McDonald's, Wendy's or Tim Horton's uniforms, they want to be a cook. The uniform should be all the proof we need that they have a job, or had one, or know what a work uniform looks like when they get it donated by the Salvation Army.
They want to know when they can come in, I give them a couple of time slots when the owner will be around to interview them. They call back and want to know the bus that runs nearest to the restaurant. Or they call back and tell me that "if they still need the job they might drop round tomorrow....".
Good people can't be that hard to find. But, really, someone with 2 arms and 2 legs walking through that door under their own power is starting to look pretty good.
They come down, hours away from the times I've quoted them on the phone, the middle of the afternoon when no one is there to interview them, in the middle of the dinner or lunch rush, waiting at the front door for the owner to drop all the orders and come out to interview them, the time I suggested, it just wasn't convenient for them. I just pitch the resume into the garbage.
And the phone keeps ringing and the ad stays up. Help Wanted.