- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1991
We've got dinner theater tickets and so I take the boy. It's one of those musical productions where every waiter has a part and between courses gets up on stage. This evening's production is a "Rock and Roll" themed event, so there's Madonna, Boy George, Mick Jagger, David Bowie, the Beatles, there's dozens of roles and no matter who you are you'll have a turn on stage.
We're watching this and I think I recognize someone. Someone I went to elementary school with, one of the 'luminaries', as it were, a smart kid, I grew up in a small town, there weren't many 'smart' kids and so I marked him from the crowd, everyone did, as being destined for great things.
Now I think I recognize him because in the wee hours one evening a couple of years ago I googled his name, curious as to what had become of him. and had found that he was playing in a touring show playing at this theater, and I had meant to drop around and say "hi" but circumstances didn't permit.
So he's serving, he brings me my wine, he's a big "AC-DC" type wig on his head but there's something about the face - the accent, the voice is all wrong, not what I remember at all, but the height - that would be about right, and the face...
The boy has dropped his spoon, character waiter picks it up, talks about spoons falling from the ceiling, this must be the worse job in the world - not really "serving", you're more an "entertainer", it's somehow as if you couldn't get a job as a waiter or as an actor and so ended up being the character waiter.
I'm filled with sympathy for him, ridiculous given my own situation of being a waiter-slash-unemployed, and he's made eye contact with me a few times and I'm not sure if he's recognized me....
I confront the waitress - she breaks character for a moment to confirm my suspicions, the boy is watching. He's just applied for the performing arts program and I tell him this could well end up being his career. He's not too enthralled with my vote of confidence.
The show goes on and eventually he drops by, the character waiter, and we talk. How long has it been? About 30 years. In fact, almost exactly 30 years, and you realize how old we're getting. And we talk briefly, catch up, he's now in "Arts and Entertainment" and I'm - well, I'm overwhelmed with compassion (and this only because there's an inability to recognize or acknowledge my own predicament...). He gives me his number, we'll go for coffee and catch up another time, he's working now, and so he walks away between the tables talking loudly to himself so that everyone can hear:
"It's OK to look at me, I'm famous...."
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 2016
It's a vanishing art, this. I know, I've tried a few, most are clowns barely fit to change a battery, but he's different, his walls are lined with European & Swiss certifications, He's in his 60's and he's been doing this all his life, as has his father before him.
I've been coming here almost 20 years. He's the best watch repairman in Western Canada.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 2047
I hate dentists.
Not my dentist in particular, he's actually a pretty good guy, but in principle, somehow they remind me of the tens of thousands of dollars that should be sunk into my mouth to fix things up, they remind me I need to quit smoking, they in short are a reflection of my worst self.
And I've been seeing a lot of them, him lately. There's a lot to be done and I want it done before I'm unemployed.
I go in for the cleanings, the x-rays, then there are the inevitable extractions. This is misery, I know it, but I've psychologically prepared myself, numbed myself, suspended all thoughts until this is done.
In the chair and he holds up a long needle.
"We call this 'the wand'" he tells me.
"Oh! Dumbledore!" I say, muffled because my mouth is already partially numb and wide open.
"Merlin" he corrects me.
"And we're going to have to use an elevator. But it's not the kind of elevator that goes up and down...." he says, he's using the same patter he'd use with a 5 year old child. His teeth, they are perfect, too perfect. He's big into the cosmetic dentistry thing, but he's taken it too far on his own mouth, perfectly regular, brilliant white, they glint and shine a testament to his skill. Unnatural, he should know better. Mine are the opposite, light bends and is lost in the crooked maze that is my mouth, the model for Theseus and the Minotaur....
And he holds up a hammer and chisel. This is the elevator; stainless steel, doubtless manufactured and overcharged by some medical lab, but it's a hammer and chisel nonetheless, and how they came up with the term "the elevator" for the moment is beyond me. I know why, because you can't tell patients that you'll attack them with this, they'll resist, maybe even retaliate...And, exactly what you'd expect, he takes the hammer and chisel and begins to chop away, tapping, banging, hammering in my mouth. It's primitive and I'm thinking that what they really need is a barbers post, none of these fancy cosmetic dentistry ads, just a twisting red candy cane in front of the store, leeches, bleeding, haircuts, this is the kind of dentist I need to see, I'm seeing...
While he's hacking away he's talking to his assistant, about vacations past and upcoming (he's a dentist, he's on vacation every other week), about hunting trips and minor personal issues, I'm not free to comment, it's not my conversation and there's that minor problem of having a hammer and chisel in my mouth.
Eventually they're done, I'm done, free to recover for a few months before I have to go through all this again.
I hate dentists.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 2204
2 rare days off in a row, the last 2 days off in a row until Christmas, but I console myself that I won't be there at Christmas, still it weighs heavily on my mind.
And I'm tracked down by old friends in the city, old friends from out of town who are feeling somewhat neglected, and it's not them, it's my schedule I explain and I explain as well that I'll be quitting soon, but they don't share my enthusiasm.
He's a magician, I've known him over 20 years. And so we meet for a bite to eat, catch up, discuss mutual acquaintances, then he invites himself over for a bottle of wine.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1782
And I've piled the laundry on the bed and head down to 7/11. I need a slurpee, some cigarettes, maybe (although I'm not consciously thinking it, if I did I wouldn't go) a bite to eat.
And there's Big Talker, working behind the counter, he's got his "I'm a Trainee" badge on and I'm surprised to see him there, but only for a moment, it makes sense, probably his son got tired of paying the rent and made him get a job and I notice, only for a moment, a slight glimmer of schadenfreude; how the mighty are laid low, but there's some conscious wrestling as I'm paying, he's messing up big time, can't ring in my cigarettes, food properly, he's given me the incorrect change and I begin to feel wretched - ashamed that in any way I should take pleasure in another's misfortune, ashamed because in a couple of short months that could be, may well be, probably will be me, ashamed because while I've overheard all the talk of the big deals going down, (rather sceptically), he's done nothing to hurt or offend me, and I just want to hurry and pay and get out of there...