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Strange markings on the pavement
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2101
This morning, I wake up, notice outside on the pavement in front of the house strange markings. Painted symbols and arrows towards the house, It's like I've been marked by hobos, or singled out for some ritualistic murder, the symbols to identify me to the initiates, the truth is much more mundane. The new landlord has gotten his designs approved, there will be an eviction order pending...
And I have a damned lot of shit to move.
Vintage Navy Blue Overcoat
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2018
Day off.
Trip to the local thrift shops - today's find - a vintage navy blue overcoat, double breasted with a high collar, 3/4 length, a row of brass buttons on each lapel, (anchor and Canada logo). Heavy, maybe 20 pounds.
It's expensive, close to $50.00, but it's a sale day and I can have it for 60% off. Which, in my world, is still expensive, by I'm seduced by the false economy of the word "Sale", and I've rather come to detest my old overcoat, the muted, nondescript checks, lack of cut and color ...
I try it on. It's excellent. By which I mean I now resemble some sort of Japanese anime character, or with the right lighting (dim) and the collar turned up, a teen vampire. I check with the sales assistant. She agrees that the coat is indeed excellent, but is reluctant to go on record as saying I look like a teen vampire... "One of the lost boys, maybe" she offers helpfully, she's loathe to commit to the word "teen"...
I leave my old overcoat behind. This will be the new me ... (photos will follow)
Sense of Urgency
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2156
We've been trying out a few waiter and waitresses to fill a new vacancy on the team.
Now this restaurant, it needs experienced waiters. People who know what they're doing. But we've tried a few that were experienced and they didn't work out. So we try somebody new. He's Chilean, good looking, young, "experienced" as he tells us.
I go through the drill with him today. I explain the rules, treat him as if he's never done it before. He has, in New Zealand, which is to say he hasn't really.
I explain "Sense of Urgency" and "Walk with a sense of purpose". He nods as if he's understanding, but he's not really.
It's a shame, I rather like him, he's amiable enough.
I explain to him the rule of never leave the kitchen empty handed, and never walk into the kitchen empty handed.
He doesn't understand this. I explain further, he gives up and pretends to understand.
Some people don't get it. They're suited for jobs that pay them a flat rate by the hour. They're innately laid back, nothing stresses them out. They'd be great on construction sites or working for the Union.
Waiters, they're not concerned with their hourly rate of pay, they get paid nothing per hour. They're concerned with getting the job done as quickly as possible and going home. The hourly rate, it's a pittance, it doesn't matter. They're paid (in theory) by the customers for how well and how swiftly they do their job.
The Chilean, he doesn't get it. I explain it to him again, I like him, he's personable enough, bright, and I try to share the "Sense of Urgency" with him, his job depends on it, he still doesn't get it, moseying slowly through the dining room, missing obvious details and service points...
He'd probably work out really well at an Earl's.
Day Off - January 24 - 2010
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2065
Last night, a late night at work, in bed by 2:00 AM.
This morning, up at 7:00. The cat's been scratching at her litter box for an hour, she won't quit, I need to empty it, and when it's done I resolve to stay up. Coffee. More coffee. Check email, enter a few online contests, another win, apparently, 3rd prize, need to call tomorrow and find out what it is....I don't recall having even entered their contest...Shovel sidewalk.
9:00 AM - Call friend for coffee.
Meet for coffee. He's into Deepak Shopra at the moment, it's all making sense, he mimes for me the attitude of perfect mental emptiness I need to manifest my dreams.
I give him a minute or two, ensuring I understand. He's got his eyes screwed shut, holding his hands in front of him, waiting....
I don't need lessons in mental emptiness at the moment. My mind, my head, is a vacuum.
After coffee a ride to the Hillhurst Flea Market, no great treasures today, the periscope, it's vanished, not sure if it's been sold or the dealer's simply forgotten to bring it with him, I don't ask, to ask is to reduce one's bargaining power...
I do find a made in Holland porcelain statue of the beloved virgin for a twoonie, I pick it up, sucker that I am for religious kitsch.
Then home, a sandwich and a nap.
Dreams, erratic, that my rosary collection has been vandalized, someone has stolen the crosses from them, broken jewellry, an old house in Moose Jaw, they, the thief/antique dealer, lives across the street, he agrees to pay for damages only he wants to take back an old round oak table he sold me, he'll pay me $1400, which is OK, wheeling it across the street, an Asian gangster is watching him...
The phone wakes me, tele-web-advice, provided, back to sleep...
...more bizarre dreams...
then up, exhausted, at 5:00, email, work, surf the net, writing, projects, laundry, pay bills online, the ever growing list of countless things to be done in a very limited time....
Now time for laundry, dishes, back to writing, watch the rest of the BBC special on Chaos...
Time passes.
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