- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 481
Kelowna, a short drive (distance), long drive (Paulson Summit, snowing, white-out conditions, and finding after having just traversed it that it's been closed due to mudslides, now to plan another way back, which is fine, because I wasn't going to white-knuckle that again even if it were open). The rest of the drive, lots of rocks to be looked at, low creek beds I should be panning for gold, looking for arrowheads. I pass a series of dilapidated shacks surrounded by heaps of garbage bags, I should have stopped to take a picture, the most BC thing, hundreds of full garbage bags piled high about the most ramshackle dwelling ever, I'd never noticed this before, probably because further into Spring it's obscured by foliage,
...finally, Kelowna. I remember as a child, 6 or 7, driving into Kelowna, the full moon rising, oversized, sun setting, above a mountain above the lake - magical.
That Kelowna is long gone. Now, Kelowna is a long strip mall that runs the length of the highway, chain and outlet stores, it has all the fucking charm of a Wal-Mart on Black Friday.
And the traffic. Where in the hell are all these cars coming from, and where are they all going? How are there so many? Why is it so fucking busy?
After this long drive I'm looking for a place to eat, but there's nothing, chain after chain after chain.
Finally - "Pan-Asian Buffet" - or some such, a huge restaurant. And I'd been hankering for Chinese, a fried rice with chili oil, and so this will do.
THE BUFFET OF INFINITE PERIL
Why, why do I punish myself?
It's huge. I mean, it could seat 300, maybe 400 people, easy. And the buffet has everything. I mean, all of it, hundreds of items, all the Chinese food, crab legs, large shrimp, fried fish, chicken, beef, pork, noodles, rice, more noodles and rice and vegetables, spare ribs, ribs, sauces, 3 dozen desserts, sushi,...
I confine myself to the simpler foods, I'm not taking any chances...
How do they do this? All this food - $30? It's impossible. Impossible.
We need to get a pipeline from Kelowna to Nelson, move the food there...
Fill my plate.
...and...yeah.
My heart begins to race. Whatever is in this isn't good for me, I can feel it, a heart attack coming on, and I call it quits after 2 plates. Enough. Flavor wise, well, it's all the same. Shrimp, spare rib, pork, chicken ball, who would know? How could you tell? Not to eat it you couldn't...but, $30...
Disgusting. I had to try. Absolutely disgusting. Nonetheless the place is picking up, it's nearing the dinner hour, I'm pretty sure it will be full...
Tomorrow, at some point after I've left the comfortable amenities of the hotel, there will come a pass where my stomach rebels. IT will come suddenly and with great violence, and I'll be sucking in a fart, pulling over at high speed (hopefully on the highway and not in town), bounding up a mountain side or across a field to hide behind - if I'm lucky - a tree, and discharge this high-velocity mess of grease and flour. And I must make a note, take heed, warning, because it will happen, it always does, and when it does it won't be pleasant...)
**
Finally, the Hotel. A Sandman. A comfy bed, a desk, wifi, a pool and a gym were I inclined to use it, (I'm not, tired from the days drive, full from the trough of despond).
Enjoy the hotel room. A bath. A TV (I never turned on). A bed. A bed. What luxury is this? Wow. Bath, toilet, bed. My god, did I win the lottery? I heard rumor some people live like this every day of their life. Bloody hell.
The bath, relaxing, the bed, delightful, I spread out under the cozy blanket, read my book and fall asleep.
I could live like this every day. I'm sure I could.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 493
This Easter Weekend, substantially overstated, one waiter could have handled the whole thing. Instead it's me and JR, splitting the days. Until Sunday.
It's not even remotely busy. Mind you, it doesn't have to be, at our prices you only need a few tables and the ring-outs get huge in a hurry.
1:30 Saturday, a pretty girl walks in and seats herself in the back of the restaurant. Jr approaches her, apparently she ate there a few days before, chats to her, she asks about his wedding ring, he confirms he's married - and she stands up and leaves.
Just like that.
I'm aghast. Someone - someone - fancied JR. I mean, I know he's married with children but I find him the furthest thing from attractive - a younger version of Ken, who - comparatively - has infinitely more charm and suavity.
This is incredible. I mean - 5 years ago, when I started, he was a younger version of Leonardo Di Caprio, but now, now he's Leonardo gone down the road of Orson Welles.
And really - you only need to talk to him for a few minutes - he can be charming, but it's a superficial, guarded charm; you see through it - and she, well, she seemed so normal.
Anyways, had to laugh, there's no accounting for taste...
Sunday, JR, and 2:00 it happens, the endless parade of people wanting nothing to eat but service, we fill, parties of 9 that want to sit down or take out or just mill about admiring the taxidermy, an hour of the good 'ole Cock 'N' Suck. He misses his ferry.
And then, just as quickly, it's back to normal and the restaurant is empty and he makes the next ferry and there's a little rush later in the evening, but nothing I can't handle.
The summer begins.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 450
Still fucking sore. The "Hip Abductor", easy enough to do, has taken it's toll. As has everything else. Which only makes me all the more annoying at work: "Feel my Bicep! IT'S HUGE...soooo hard!!! It's LIKE A TUMOR ON MY ARM! I'M GOING TO HAVE TO SEE A DOCTOR AND MAKE SURE IT'S NOT CANCER!!!!". This, is of course, only one of the many muscles I've as of late rediscovered, overextended and strained.
But there's only so many places I can get people to touch.
My reward, I've decided, is that if I can make it another 7 times, use up my punch pass before it expires, I'm going to become a "Life Coach" and bring my own brand of supercililous annoying to the masses. Broadcasting my "Best Life" photos of me photoshopped or AI'd into God's Body on a beach in Mexico and all that.
Facebook. I'm going to start using my Facebook Account. And set up a better Instagram devoted to pictures of me.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 505
Parking, in and around Ainsworth, listening to Kootenay Co-op radio and life is good. Eclectic. I've missed this. Comfy, the music varies, but when it hits it hits. Soundscapes, the sound of rain on the CRV roof, comfily splayed across the passenger and drivers seat, avoiding the phone (I've exceeded my monthly limit already, not good, don't touch it until I'm within range of free wifi...), need to get batteries for my flashlight and I'll be set...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 469
To the gym, with my new Gym bag, trying out all the medieval instruments of torture, discover another, how to use? Surreptitiously peek or spy on someone, figure it out, wait my turn, wear myself out on it and find another. Rinse, repeat. High school girls occupying machines to take selfies of themselves or do a set and then endlessly scroll through their Instagram photos, they wind me up, I'm on a mission, hurry up...!!!
I recognize a couple, petite fit Kootenay girl, spotting for her immensely muscular boyfriend (s??), she smiles & says "hi", I know them, but from where? Certainly not here. Probably the restaurant, or perhaps a rave. It's embarrassing this, these gym bunnies benching more than I'll be able to do in a year, not that that's my ambition but I am inherently a sexist, and I'm not living up to my prejudices...
A sane person might consider it time to revise their prejudices, but no one's ever accused me of being Sane.
Another girl practicing her Pelvic Thrusts with a 200lb Barbell on her lap, bloody hell, is she dating King Kong?
I fucking hate the gym, but as I seem to be a sucker for punishment...what with the Vodka and smoking, I'll see how long I can stand it...this, at least might have an "UP' side, so I keep it up...
Pumping Iron, until your only thought is to escape the gym, your every limb trembles and burns, and even the bars on the doors are too tough to push open, and it occurs to me to make a Gym themed Escape Room, the whole purpose to escape it, overcome obstacles tailor made to increase your fitness, move this weight and this and then get to the door, pull, push...it could be done, easy.
When my hour is done, torture completed, I was hurting from Tuesday and I'm hurting even more today, this didn't help at all, then down to the Steam Room and Sauna where I can feel the Vodka and Nicotine evaporating through my pores. Small reward for a lot of pain.
The Gym, it's curbing my enthusiasm for drinking and cigarettes, my sole vices, it's true, you need only a single good habit to begin dismantling a hundred bad ones. The subconscious mind does not hold contrary views, in opposition to the conscious mind which can comfortably hold a hundred.