Tuesday, May 2nd. It hits - on my phone - 29 degrees in Nelson. On Global News it says the high was 31.4 degrees. Celsius.
This is weather typically reserved for late June.
We're fucked.
Anyways, days off, Gym, laundry, eat out, eat lots, eat all you can. Because now that you're working out your body's craving it and because you're in town and you can eat different things.
Somewhat different, not a lot. But it beats the same-old-same-old at the restaurant.
3 Bananas from Save-On and a thing of tequila salmon nuggets. Bananas, meh, old after one, by three I'm gagging them back. Not my favorite.
More oil for the millstone, because - while it doesn't leak it, or blow blue smoke, it sure has a taste for oil. Mmmmm. Oil.
Library, read my book, blog - my website was for a while blocked, Phishing, apparently it was hacked. But it's fixed now. And so I got it unblocked and blogging - when in town, will be an easier thing.
The weekend at the restaurant, fucked, Friday, Saturday, dead, Sunday, for some reason, we're busy. Only after I start, not before. Only after JR has fucked off to town after a cryptic "text me if you need me..." which means," well, you're on your own...because it'll take me at least an hour to get out there, so live with it.". He takes dog-fucking up 3 or 4 orders of magnitude.
There's hope (??) for the summer yet.
Friday night his mother-in-law is in town, an "occasional" waitress at the restaurant who has somehow conceived an infatuation with me, wants me to pick her up and take her out.
By the time I show up she's sloshed and just wanting to go inside...her adopted daughter's house - and have a drink.
It gets uncomfortable quickly, a family of hardened alcoholics, and, you know, I'm just not there yet...I discretely, politely, excuse myself and bail. "yes you are beautiful but never with staff...you know...". Bloody hell. Not my party, not my scene.
In town, Big City Blonde is still holding court at the café in the morning, I caught her name, looked her up on Facebook, she's literally advised all of her friends that she'll be in town for 10 days and they can come catch up with her between...and .... at the café.
All right. This explains a lot. Although not the 3 changes of outfit per day, as I ran into her again at Cantina for lunch and the Cauldron for dinner. And she had a different outfit every time.
Tuesday, the same, volunteer - a few treasures, an unopened Christmas present (that proves to be a box of chocolates), an old treasure chest that really needs to be filled with doubloons and reburied, coffee, sun in the park.
Wednesday - the restaurant, slow, training a new staff member and assuring her that yes, we will be busy. But we're not busy yet. Let her go at 7:30, cash-out, then a single guy walks in. Then another deuce, and another, and yet another...
It's misery this, the pass has been closed due to a slide, traffic has been diverted, we're getting the stragglers that want to wait out until the next ferry.
I resign myself to a late night. A late night of no money earned, hostages of climate change and catastrophe tend not to be big spenders or tippers.
***
Mornings, wake up overlooking Queens Bay, a couple of Canada Geese have set up their nest on a pier, a great blue heron to the right casts a great reflection before flying away. I'll see him (??) every morning.
***
The next day, the same, the pass is still closed and we get hit in surges all day. People looking to spend time, not money, a 3 or 4 sailing wait on the Ferry, people coming in for a coffee or tea, the emptying out every sailing, in a rush to leave and pay, maybe they'll get on this sailing, then back again for the free refill on their coffee, killing another 2 hours, and it repeats, ordering to-go and then eating it in the restaurant as a work around to tipping,
It's classic chaos, what we're known for, the night goes mad and late, the pass has re-opened but people that have come here are going to wait it out, these are the days of panicked running around for what amounts to fuck-all on your ring-out.
****
Which brings us to Friday, which is as slow as the previous day was busy, and I've swapped around my schedule for some Friday night social, which goes, this is why you live here after all, not all-work no play but a balanced life. These days at the moment, they're shorn of money and hope, debts still increase and my "ride", 3rd gear all the way up the lake and Sunday night I have to get to Kelowna at 60 KM an hour, this is a 6 hour trip, bloody hell...