- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1955
Up at 4:30 AM, unable to get back to sleep.
I've been short on sleep ever since this "vacation" began, but there is much to do and I lay in bed, trying to get back to sleep and there's a tightness in my chest that reminds me I must quit smoking, must exercise, and I make my lists and plot my plans and worry that this is what it feels like to have a heart attack (it probably isn't, I know, but if you haven't had one it could fool you...).
I must get a job, new job, any job, a job I love. A job that pays well, not the best in the world, but that leaves me time to think and work on other things. But that has to wait.
I must get theater tickets. Soon, today, commit to this, get it done, life awaits.
I must write, transcribe notebooks filled on vacation, notebooks under the desk that have lain there forever, ever since I was a child.
I must move to the new place, now empty, awaiting me, there's much to be done there and I am saved some slight labors by the fact that I have have worked so often that I've never unpacked from my last move. This new move, it will keep me busy but it's not the end of the world.
Breathe, deep, this tightness in the chest, it's caused by my not breathing, breathing, deeply, I forget to breathe, remind myself.
There are the lists of things to be done in the new place, the agreement, I have plans and there are lists to be drawn up.
Thrift shops, but I have no muse at the moment, am loathe to acquire new things when I still haven't rid myself of the old. I must take in some watches for repair, art projects forever on hold, stale writings awaiting transcription in notebooks...
And I think about departures and arrivals, the coming and going of relations, about the dentist who's first visit I survived but has me scheduled for many, many more, and there are countless distractions that need be sorted, I think of absent lovers cold in their graves and warm in their beds and eventually I just give up and make some coffee, start the day, 4 hours sleep with no hope of a nap but I have only to stop thinking of things and begin...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2051
It's begun.
Anticlimactic, somehow, there's still things to be done, organized, plans to be made....
The landlord returned this morning, got me out of bed, the plumbing has been fixed, a few trial flushes of the toilet confirm it and I'm glad, I can take my morning coffee in the house...
I leave for work early, a couple of estate sales I want to hit, nothing too fine, a few trinkets for the daughter, I'm too late for the real treasures but I don't care, I'm soon to be on vacation and there will be treasures enough...
Work, all the staff restless, resenting every table that comes in. We've lots to do. The evening passes, slowly, very slowly, time trickles to a standstill, everyone is restless. The Bosses Nephew is bored with his current girlfriend, she's been around a week and has grown too attached, he's already planning a replacement while he comes and rubs himself against my leg. I make a mental note to take him to the Rocky Horror Picture Show, he hasn't seen it, all these women he's going through, the double pierced ears with overlarge faux-diamonds, the chest waxing, eyebrow plucking, mascara, it's time to help him out of the closet. The Rocky Horror Picture Show will be his ticket.
He's got it rough, the owner has assigned him a large list of chores to be done while he's away, paint the fence, paint the restaurant, and there's the problem of the homely dishwasher house-sitting to be dealt with.
Franco, he's out on the street, shouting rude things in Italian at pretty girls walking past. He can't wait for it to start, will be complaining the moment we're back of his boredom.
G - G hasn't got any plans, wants to get out of town, maybe will go work with a friend in another restaurant downtown for a week.
Everyone wants out and the night passes too slowly, a few regular customers who tip exorbitantly, trying to help the staff through the famine of the next 3 weeks, well intended but somehow insulting at the same time: 1 customer slips $100.00 to Franco - "For his family" while we're closed, Franco's excited, I'm less so - "Don't you find it insulting that he doesn't think you have the sense to budget for your vacation yourself?" I ask him. He hadn't looked at it that way. But it's the last night before vacation and all the regulars are a little bit more generous than usual.
After work, finally after work, we all go for drinks, "The Rusty Cage" on 16th Avenue NW. It's quiet, only a few people, the music loud, we retire to the basement for a drink. We sit, quiet, the bosses nephew is off, grouchy, wants to go dancing, none of us are in the mood. It's strange, this, the longest you go without seeing anyone here is a day, 3 weeks will seem like an eternity, the hostess, the hostess leaving for a better job, came in in tears tonight, saying goodbye was hard - "I know it's been a shit show and you're all fuck-wits but I'll miss you..." she says, and I understand.
Franco and I bid G & Nephew goodbye, I pick up my bag and walk home. My thoughts are elsewhere, not on vacation, making notes on a pad of paper. Past Aquila Books on 16 Ave, their fabulous window display, Bell Jar, $250, silvered ("and what, then, is the point of this" I wonder...), odd scientific instruments, beautiful and curious things that jog the imagination, 10 years of garage sale finds at 100 times the price but it's an inspiration to look, and I wonder what treasures (if any) I'll turn up on my vacation....
And now, 2:33 AM day 1 of vacation, outside there's heat lightning, light splashes of rain, I'm writing on the computer, time passes...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1966
And the landlord shows up, rings the bell, plunger in hand, 11:30 PM.
The downstairs is a mess, water pouring from the ceiling, there's an easy 10K flood damage. Raw sewage, eating the walls, drywall, carpets, filling the downstairs shower.
It's making my departure from here look increasingly attractive.
Tonight, work, slow - the first slow day in a month, long weekend. The Bosses Nephew has found out that the boss, he doesn't trust him so much and so he's got the dishwasher to move in and keep an eye on the house for the three weeks that he's away. He's not so pleased, he'll be moving in with the current girlfriend for a week or two at least...
And the bosses son, asking questions about creditors that have demanded settlements of 1/2 on his debts, he's accepted, he thinks it's a good deal, but will it affect his credit rating?
The boss, he just shakes his head, asks aloud to anyone who will listen - "How did I end up with such a fucking idiot for a son...."
The son, he's oblivious, he's now discussing the next Harry Potter movie and what will Voldemort do next....
It's a different world. 1 day left until vacation.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2150
Sleep in, wake up, this lunch off poor payment for last night taken from me, drinking my coffee, vague plans for the morning, afternoon, when the roommate bursts in to tell me the water is backing up, I need to call the landlord.
And I think it's a bit dramatic, we still have the laundromat, but it's the bathroom now, and I go to check and there are turds floating in the bathtub, the toilet has overflown, backed up into the tub, and she's there with mop and bucket cleaning it up.
I should clarify - not my turds.
She's not impressed. The "free rent as long as you clean" agreement - this wasn't part of it. Not at all, not a bit. And so I promise to call the landlord and send her off to work.
I call the landlord, leave a message, another message announcing my departure in August, but they're not returning my calls, and so I have to write this up and take a bus to the old hood where I leave it impaled on their door. Then to Safeway, I need a few weeks of cat food, and purchase as well some drain cleaner. Today will be spent pouring liquid plumber, draino down the sinks, kitchen sink, bathroom sink, bathtub, occasional pots of boiling water, trying to clear the blockage so I can shower and prepare myself for work.
A brief nap, clouds boiling on the horizon, tornadoes in brilliant blue dancing across the landscape, chalk-drawn edges that make them seem like wedges into another universe, hail, great storms that hide the houses across the street from me.
The forecast is for thundershowers.
Now to test my plumbing, take a shower and hope nothing unsavory floats up, then to work. 2 days left.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1997
2 more days. Long days. I can somehow imagine the last day will go quick, we'll get the customers out early, move the tables, final clean of bar and kitchen, our thoughts will be on the brief weeks ahead. Which really only leaves one day, one long day, much to do...
The customers, some, most of whom are too kind. I'll miss them, don't want to disappoint them that I no longer care to serve, it's tough to explain but they should understand. Still, some will be missed more than others.
Like Mitch, great regular customer, friendly, loves his food. And he has an apartment in Vancouver, he's trying to get me to take the keys to it, "Take a vacation, a couple of days off and go stay there" he says. And I want to explain that there are no days off here. None whatsoever, never 2 days off in a row. But he's on a roll - "I have a 57 Mustang convertible, fully loaded, you can have the keys.... Now this is nice, he doesn't know me but I serve him maybe twice a month, and he's offering me his apartment and even if there were time I couldn't accept but he's so insistent, the spirit is grand and I'll miss him, miss the others. Most of the others anyways.
But there's the vacation, the dentist, and then the move and it will be time to move on from there as well.