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The Daily Fig
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Link of the day
- Hits: 1538
An online writing resource that sets goals and allows unpublished writers to find their readership.
Some interesting reading.
Link: The Daily Fig
The Drunken Waiter
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1767
"The most important thing..." he's telling us "is to breathe..."
He's sitting on a chair by the front door, he's just gotten in and he's regaling us with his opinions. Most of them, like with the nephew, I've heard before, but once in a while he comes up with something new.
M is drunk. It was a condition of his rehire that he not be drinking, but he got the lunch off (slow) and when he returned at 4:30 was just a little more opinionated than usual.
The evening, slow at the beginning of the day, is steadily picking up. More and more reservations, walk-ins, it's a busy night.
And G tells me "He's fucking hammered, haven't you noticed...?"
Really, given how often everyone there is either hammered or stoned I hadn't, and if he did his job I wouldn't care, but he's leaning upon a chair talking to a table, his voice, intonation, he's got an exaggerated manner now that I notice...I wonder if the table knows he's drunk, cares? Or is it simply another little charming quirk in their favorite Italian restaurant?
"And I said to him....and he said to me...."
He's famous, he's worked everywhere in the city, and before the shift was in a tirade about all the shitty places he's worked, now he's amusing the tables with anecdotes of his travels and friends, there's a line up at the door, food to be run, people waiting to be sat, tables to be cleared, offered dessert, more drinks, but M is off in the midst of his story and all these things can wait...
I wouldn't care, but we're busy, counting on all hands being somewhat vaguely productive, if the owner notices he's done and I don't want the owner to notice, this job, it's like the monkey's paw, there's no giving it away when anyone understand the strings attached, and so we'll all keep quiet and hope nobody says anything.
The first Tarzan Movie...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1818
I'm happening by a house and end up inside.
There's a party going on, in another room there's some hand-drawn animation, its the first movie to be made by the creators of Southpark, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, there's hand scribbled pictures of Tarzan and then it turns into real life, in the next room there's a party, Trey and Matt are trying to get it all down...
In the next room, the party room, there's an orgy of sorts, young actresses I vaguely recognize, I'm trying to get Trey to explain to me how they got funding for this, their first venture, he's too busy going between being inside the movie to watching the movie to try and answer...
Strange dream, lurid, long, filled with peculiar details that I can't quite remember...
Moleman and the VLT's
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2149
Saturday night and we're - the staff - once again at the dire NE Local.
Even G's tired of it, wants to find a new hangout, place to go, he's along tonight because there's plans - vague, unsubstantiated, to meet up with the old salad girl and party. He has fond memories of these party nights.
The bar, it's mostly empty, the nephew upon first arriving pays his dues into the VLT machine, $20.00 gone to no good effect.
Then G gives it a try, surprising, G doesn't usually gamble, his money goes quick as well.
Our food arrives.
And while they're eating a small, older man arrives, Mole-man from the Simpsons, there's a resemblance, he's casing the machine that G and the Nephew just quit.
You can see the plot, the outcome before it happens...
He puts in $20.00. And I warn the Nephew and G that they've "primed" the machine for him, sure enough, thick glasses, messy homeless dress, in ten minutes he cashes out $250.00.
He doesn't give up, he "plays" the game, stops the reels, makes strange passes on the machine, I'm watching, awed, beginning to think he might know what he's doing. He pumps another $60.00 in to the machine, cashes out again over $200.00. G and the Nephew, they're in agony, they quit too soon, I'm thinking he's some sort of idiot savant, he can see the inner flow of code, odds, probability, I'm beginning to believe in his strange powers, ask the waitress - "does he consistently win?" I ask her...
"No one consistently wins on the VLT's" she assures me, and I'm not sure I'm reassured.
Mole-man is done, eating now with his friends the smallest portion of his winnings.
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