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The Waiter
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1051
An old customer of the Italian Restaurant, used to run a newspaper in Calgary, made a fortune, never read a book in his life. When he sold the paper started a charity to promote literacy.
That's Calgary.
He had his own private room, was gracious in that way that people who get everything for free are gracious, he'd tell you that his business, he bought it, was lucky, the right combination of circumstance, then in the same breath would tell you how smart he was, how, because he had money, he was better than you, his opinions, they were worth more.
At the end, when the restaurant was closing, he didn't get the private room. He didn't tip. He was angry, I understood, his family, son, daughter, after he stormed out they apologized, didn't think to make up the tip. And the last few days he'd call in 5 minutes after his reservation and cancel it. It didn't matter, we had no end to the assholes filling the place up, he was just another one. It's easy to be gracious when your getting your way, when you don't - well, that's the test. And we all kind of liked him, and it was sad to see him go on that note - another entitled asshole, but - well, wasn't my call, and his flag went up.
Anyways, he lives not far from me now, older, in his 80's, and I see him in my rounds. At Beano, on the street. He doesn't see me, I'm careful to stay out of his direct line of sight, don't want to be lured into awkward pleasantries. But he knows. In the cafe, he doesn't see me, doesn't look at me, but you can tell by the way that he moves, looks - sniffs around - there's something - someone - he just can't put his finger on it...
I'm even more invisible in my street clothes than I was in my waiters uniform, it's fun to watch him, subconsciously I've registered, only he can't place me - doesn't even know it's me, just knows something's off, a memory that stings him ...
Calgary Cops
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1107
These are just the ones that got caught: https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/calgary/calgary-police-morton-mcnish-braile-sentencing-harassment-corruption-1.5064293
Robot
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Creative
- Hits: 1077
I had done another painting the night before, mixed media on paper. I started with watercolor pencils, then ink, then some acrylic and oil pastels. It worked quite well. And so I took the success to heart and started another - Robot, instead of paper using canvas and starting with watercolor pencil and acrylic:
So far so good. Lots to fix with it but I'll do that with the Oil Pastels... they have a better range of color than the cheap Dollorama paints I've been using.
Fail. The oil pastels don't catch or blend with the surface of the canvas, what worked well on paper fails here.
Oh well...learn and try again. Given how much I enjoy painting I should be doing it more often, there are occasional successes, this is not one of them. Fortunately my theory of art limits the time I spend on a piece - failure is often made worse by trying to remedy it, merely learn the lesson and start again...
Flood
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1345
**Strange dreams lately. A long spell of no dreams, then a few wild ones I forgot to write down. This one I did**
I'm going prospecting, Southern Alberta, not Southern Alberta, a dream landscape I've visited before. There's a valley, strewn with lava stones and gems, and I'm going to stop there first along the way...
Only as I get there there's a bridge, and over the bridge, towards me, flowing a viscous green mass of water, there's been a flood, no prospecting today...
I'm at home, a 3 story apartment in a small sunny neighborhood somewhere, wooden balcony, peach plaster building, external stairs up to the flat, 3 beds, I have roommates, ....
2 pretty girls, I don't know them but I work with them, they're friends, upstairs on the beds making themselves comfortable, they're going to be spending the night, their flat is under water, and I'm thinking this could get spicy...
Then more people - B****, hipster waiter from the D "n" D in the Kootenays, he's here, other friends I haven't met yet, don't know, know only that they're friends...
Outside, the light of the setting sun, I see the green water swirling down below, the flood has reached here, people are climbing the steps to higher ground, leaving their ground level flats, I see ****?, the wife of an old customer of the old restaurant, I've seen her husband around lately but have been avoiding him, wanted to avoid awkward artificial pleasantries, the balcony and apartment are filling up, there's a festive atmosphere...
I've walked around the balcony, lots of people up here watching the water, when all of a sudden it rises at once, 10, maybe 20 feet, and all the flats beneath me are flooded, I'm teasing B**** about living in his parents basement, he's going to have a mess to clean up for sure, when I realize - I live on the second floor, and everything I own is under water...
The water, as suddenly as it rose it's sinking now, and all I can think about is that everything I have is ruined, watches, everything, and I have no insurance...
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