One day at my new job…

…at the one (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel:

1) After the previous afternoon when I was walking to the local salon to schedule a hair appoint and suddenly I felt something on my forehead and I smash it and it’s a little clumpy dot of blood and mosquito legs, I’m sitting out on the front porch of the front house doing language study and I see a mosquito there, too.

And, on the phone that same day, my mother says that she just saw the first mosquito there, too, and when I’m surprised because they’re that much farther north than I am, she says that they’re also around more water, don't forget.

2) This (older) (white) couple is in and the (dyed-hair blonde) wife is chatty but also very prickly, like, when she orders a cocktail and I identify that it’s a variant of a common cocktail but smoky because of this one smoky ingredient that's in it, which is something I do because sometimes customers don't pay attention and then order it and taste it and are surprised and unhappy, she’s like, “Yes, I imagine, I thought that when I read [the ingredient name],” and she says that as she picks up the menu and reads the ingredient name back out loud to me.

And, later, when I go to clear appetizer plates, she says that she would like a to-go box, and when I ask her if she wants the sauces too, she says yes, and I ask her if she wants one or both, and she says both, so I bring out the box and the appropriate number of cup-tops (since the sauces already come in little black plastic cups that you can easily take home with you, if someone brings out a lid for you).

And, my one (skinny) (bearded and balding) (pun-loving) coworker mostly dealt with them after that, but at the end of the meal they wave me over, and the lady picks up the last portion of her burger – it’s like smaller than a matchbox – and she says there isn’t any cheese on there, although you can see it’s grilled into the patty, and she also says that the sauce had onions in it and she doesn’t like onions.

“I said no onions when they asked if I wanted onions on my burger,” she was like. “You think someone would have mentioned that the sauce has onions, that that would have been a good idea…”

And, I say sometimes that happens, if there’s strong preferences always ask about sauces, and then she starts talking about the cheese again, and so I go get the (athletic) (Asian-American) (semi-manager) who’s on duty and tell her that the lady is eccentric and what complaints she has, and she goes over there and ends up comping her the burger, and I ask her why and if there’s a policy and she says that other people like the owner and the one (introverted) (tattooed) (white) manager wouldn’t comp her the burger probably because she ate so much of it, but that wouldn’t work with her because she’s too young and the customer wouldn’t take her seriously.

And, later, after I close out that table’s check, I go to clear leftover plates and there on the appetizer plate is one of the lids for the to-go sauces, unused.

“Did you need this top for the to-go sauce?”, I was like, and the lady is like imperiously, “No,” so I’m like, “Well, I asked specifically and you said that you wanted both cups, so I’m just going to leave this here for you,” and I pick up the sauce and the top and place them on the table more towards her, at which she’s like, “Well, you’re right,” and then she starts to shamefacedly put the lid on the cup and then goes to put both of them in her to-go box.

3) At a table of three (white) businesswomen with separate checks for reimbursement and separate alcohol checks on top of that since the company that they work for won’t pay for their alcohol, one lady decides at the end of the meal to take up my recommendation of a dessert cocktail, and then since it has a common dessert name and is like $12, she asks me how it would be itemized on the bill, and I tell her that I can check on that for her, and it comes out not listed as a cocktail and there’s no separate alcohol tax and the items just reads with the common dessert name with no indication whatsoever that it's actually a cocktail, and so she says to put that on her main bill, she’ll submit it and they’ll never know.

4) When I’m busy in the lounges and keep pre-bussing empty plates into a bus-tub cart nearby but not clearing it since I’m doing triage and there’s more important things to do with customers, my one (skinny) (bearded and balding) (pun-loving) coworker sees it stacked high and says that I should take it in and to be careful, if it gets too high or stuff stays there too long and the owner sees it, she’ll get mad, she thinks it looks bad for customers.

Earlier, too, after the eccentric lady complaining about the onions in the sauce, he says that that’s on him, he should have mentioned the onions in the sauce, and I said not really, I had no idea that there were even onions in that sauce, and I’ve eaten of those d*mn burgers.

5) When I bus a few plates back to dish, the one (younger) (blonde) (bespectacled) (art school grad) dishwasher sees some uneaten cod fillets on an uneaten pile of French fries and he points and is like, “Do you mind?”, and when I say no, he just grabs one and starts munching on it in front of me, as he stands there in his dish-apron between cleansing racks of glasses and dishes and whatnot.

6) At a nearby new industrial-area bar after work that’s on my way home, I’m on my second beer and I go to go to the restroom and I put my napkin on my glass, and when I come back there’s this (giantly fat) (kind of ghetto) (Gen Z) black girl on my stool with my drink in front of her, she came in with friends and was meeting some people a few seats over from me at the bar, and I am just befuddled and say “Excuse me” and go to get my drink from in front of her, and she doesn’t even register what’s happening and that she stole my seat, and after I move to a nearby table because I don’t want to start something, I see her get a drink and set up her phone on the counter and stream herself the entire time she’s there.

“The entire world is a soundstage to them” is the comment of my one (art school) colleague who wears (women’s) clothes when I text him about how odd that was and how I’ve noticed very weird behavior from Gen Z people.

New development at my old job…

…at the one (Thai) restaurant that I used to work at:

Two new globe lamps hang over the tables in the front windows, you can see from the street.

. . .

(The two old lamps had like a dried leaf-pattern paper wrapped around them in an upward circle for texture and atmosphere, but on the righthand one when you're looking in the paper had become unrolled in a strip and hung down from the lamp like a spiral, with a piece of tape stuck on there towards the outermost layer, as they presumably had tried to fix it once by taping the outermost layer to the next innermost, but they couldn’t get that to work, probably, and perhaps that taping even pulled more loops down and made the lamp even worse, perhaps.)

. . .

(Working close to where you live is great when you work there, but not so much when you quit and then you have to pass by a lot that place that you used to work.)

Restaurant drama…

..at the one (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel, that I now work at:

A (white) man with a(n odd) voice calls up and wants to speak with the one (big personality) (redheaded) (Irish-American) owner, and she says that she’s busy, and when I say his name, she gives this exasperated groan and becomes tense, and after they talk on the phone, she writes this guy’s name up on a note that says to double- and triple-check all of his orders before sending them out, because she’s tired of buying him food, and then she sticks that note up on the food-line where everyone who grabs and bags food can see it.

And, the next night, I get this table of two (white) people, and the woman is quite (odd) and wants grapefruit juice to drink, and they order and eat and when I go to get them to-go stuff, I bring all of that back and the bill too and then I take care of the bill, and then they ask for two sauce-cup tops (?), and then well after the bill is closed out, the (odd) (non-descript) (middle-aged) (white) man says that he has a discount card waiting for him somewhere and he’d like to use it on the bill, and I say that I can find a manager to talk to him about the card, but unfortunately he’s already paid the bill and he’d need to provide the gift card before payment.

And, between the giftcard and all of that behavior, I realize that it’s HIM.

And, when I go and check and come back and tell him that a manager out front can help him with the gift card, he goes and waits at a very funny place at the bar, like down at the end, but also where his body is out in the little aisle that goes back behind the bar, where he’s causing problems for people entering and exiting it.

Just someone who is not aware of proper social behavior, at all... Just a very, very strange human being.

I’ve heard that there’s a trend on social media telling you how to order from restaurants and cancel and complain about your order in order to get your food for free, so, like I wonder if he’s a fundamentally unwell person who was inspired to do this, by that? Like, he’s inventing complaints, in order to get refunds, and he’s doing this repeatedly in a relatively small town?

A story of a(n Argentinian) woman.

On a recent trip to (Texas), I popped into the hostel breakfast room for free coffee before heading out to get something to eat and then move onto my tourism for the day -- the room was high-ceilinged with wooden butcher block tables, with a gigantic map on the far back wall with push-pins and photos and foreign currency banknotes all tacked up onto it, and around the edges of the room there was shelving and various kitchen contraptions and a stove and a sink, above which sat multiple humorous signs about doing your dishes -- and anyhow there was also like four people in there when I walked in, although the (bearded) (New Zealand) guy soon left, and the rest kept on talking and laughing as I got my coffee and sat there and caffeinated after introducing myself, but otherwise remaining quiet as I nursed the brew in my little metal thermos-top screw-off mug that's actually more the size of a cup for (Turkish) coffee rather than a full-blown coffee mug.

And anyhow, at one point, the one (chunky) (mid-30s) (white) (Texas) woman with (wild eyes) and a big floppy (Janis Joplin-type) hat and a short (earth-tone) top with hanging fabric that aired out her (mid-size) fat folds and who kept talking about how expensive parking was everywhere in the city we were in just stopped and gestured to the two other people there, this (bearded) (ratty-looking) (early 40s) (Mexican-American) guy in (all-black) and a(n open-necked) (collared shirt) with a (vague) accent, and this (talkative) (blonde) (frosted-hair) (late 40s) (Argentinian) woman who was there for World Cup tourism since it was cheaper to stay in a non-venue city near an airport hub and jet into elsewhere for games, and who was wearing a short (bright blue) top with hanging fabric kind of like the (fat) (crazy) (Texas) woman, only it wasn't to air out any fat of hers, but rather to feature her tight body.

 "I'm just going to say it, you two are so cute together, you should be a couple!", the (fat) (crazy) (Texas) woman was like, kind of moving her head back and forth and throwing up a finger like she was telling us it all, as she sat there, wide-eyed and putting it all out there.

"Oh no!", the (Argentinian) woman was like, pleasantly and vivaciously but also a bit surprised. "He has four children! And, I prefer more white. Mexicans are too dark. I like white."

Then, she paused, and was like, "But, Brazilians and Colombians are also hot."

And, it seemed to me that she meant that last part of "also hot" in the sense that Brazilians and Colombians aren't really always all that white, but their sexiness is usually sufficient to compensate for the darkness of their skin.

Like, she really said that, in front of everyone, just as part of normal everyday conversation with relative strangers at a hostel.

Quite oddly, no-one else seemed to notice, and they all just kept the light-and-fun conversation going from there.

But, like WTF, Argentina. That's no bueno! Just batshit crazy racist behavior, and so blithe.

I guess that's how normalized it is there?

It really makes you wonder if the late Pope Francis achieved sanctity in part from having to put with that shit, for just years. 

Some recent-ish customers…

…at the one (Irish-y) burger joint in the first floor of a historic hotel, where I work at now:

1) A group of four (pretty dark-skinned) (late 20s / early 30s) (Africans from Africa), two (straight) couples each, where this one (short) woman has a very chic short dress on and high heels and a small hand-held purse and she also has this enormously large bottom and she wants to know if they can’t sit in the lounge with the windows (they can’t, it’s late and it was already shut down for the night), while the one man who has sunglasses on and a blue denim coat with broad synthetic sheep-wool collars wants to know if we serve steaks (we don’t).

2) Two (late middle-aged) women come in, one (white) and one (African), and when I go to seat them at a two-top, they ask to sit at a larger table for four – “Of course,” I was like, which is my typical response to customer requests like that, and then I also say that it’s nice to have more room in case they stick their elbows out when they eat their burgers -- and then later the one (African) lady wants hot tea, and when I bring out the tea selection, she chooses English breakfast, at which I pipe up theatrically that it’s dinner time, and then I immediately say no problem, and I bend over the teabag and pretend to cross out the wording on the wrapper and write something else and am like, “English DINNER tea,” to her great amusement.

3) A table of four (older) (white) (townie) folks are quite amused when I return with their beverages and ask them if they need anything else right now, like does anyone wants any “nibblers” (appetizers).

4) A major branded petroleum company is having a dinner for undergraduate STEM majors looking to enter that industry or who have done or who are doing internships with them or whatever, and it’s like 12 people, like 3-4 execs and the rest students.

And, my stomach sinks when the exec picking up the bill is (South Asian from South Asia).

$225 bill - $0 tip.

Like, wtf? No corporate expense account?

I only noticed it when I was cleaning up their table after they were gone, too…  We don’t do autograts for tables, no matter the size, though we used to autograt 6 or more at the (Thai) restaurant that I used to work at.

An endearing malapropism of my mother.

When she asks me about what exactly I’m studying so much with the one foreign language that I’m studying a lot for dual citizenship purposes – I honestly have been studying for more than an hour a day during certain stretches these past number of months – I tell her that it’s not really related to anything that anyone would know and that it also doesn’t have borrowings like from Latin, so almost all of the vocabulary is completely unrecognizable and unpredictable, and so I’m just memorizing thousands and thousands and thousands of new words, otherwise you can barely navigate texts or interactions at all, without that fundamental base of knowledge.

“So you’re really starting from Ground Zero, aren’t you?”, she’s like, trying to understand.

Spring habits (2 of 2): Sleeping.

As I’m getting ready to go to bed, there’s alerts on the radio about severe storms sweeping through the area, and it seems that they will be doing so all night.

So, when I go to bed, I don’t turn on my humming noise machine that I always have on.

Instead, the rain falling on my roof suffices for white noise to help me sleep, but also without that noise machine, I’ll be able to hear any tornado sirens all that much more easily.