It's begun.
Anticlimactic, somehow, there's still things to be done, organized, plans to be made....
The landlord returned this morning, got me out of bed, the plumbing has been fixed, a few trial flushes of the toilet confirm it and I'm glad, I can take my morning coffee in the house...
I leave for work early, a couple of estate sales I want to hit, nothing too fine, a few trinkets for the daughter, I'm too late for the real treasures but I don't care, I'm soon to be on vacation and there will be treasures enough...
Work, all the staff restless, resenting every table that comes in. We've lots to do. The evening passes, slowly, very slowly, time trickles to a standstill, everyone is restless. The Bosses Nephew is bored with his current girlfriend, she's been around a week and has grown too attached, he's already planning a replacement while he comes and rubs himself against my leg. I make a mental note to take him to the Rocky Horror Picture Show, he hasn't seen it, all these women he's going through, the double pierced ears with overlarge faux-diamonds, the chest waxing, eyebrow plucking, mascara, it's time to help him out of the closet. The Rocky Horror Picture Show will be his ticket.
He's got it rough, the owner has assigned him a large list of chores to be done while he's away, paint the fence, paint the restaurant, and there's the problem of the homely dishwasher house-sitting to be dealt with.
Franco, he's out on the street, shouting rude things in Italian at pretty girls walking past. He can't wait for it to start, will be complaining the moment we're back of his boredom.
G - G hasn't got any plans, wants to get out of town, maybe will go work with a friend in another restaurant downtown for a week.
Everyone wants out and the night passes too slowly, a few regular customers who tip exorbitantly, trying to help the staff through the famine of the next 3 weeks, well intended but somehow insulting at the same time: 1 customer slips $100.00 to Franco - "For his family" while we're closed, Franco's excited, I'm less so - "Don't you find it insulting that he doesn't think you have the sense to budget for your vacation yourself?" I ask him. He hadn't looked at it that way. But it's the last night before vacation and all the regulars are a little bit more generous than usual.
After work, finally after work, we all go for drinks, "The Rusty Cage" on 16th Avenue NW. It's quiet, only a few people, the music loud, we retire to the basement for a drink. We sit, quiet, the bosses nephew is off, grouchy, wants to go dancing, none of us are in the mood. It's strange, this, the longest you go without seeing anyone here is a day, 3 weeks will seem like an eternity, the hostess, the hostess leaving for a better job, came in in tears tonight, saying goodbye was hard - "I know it's been a shit show and you're all fuck-wits but I'll miss you..." she says, and I understand.
Franco and I bid G & Nephew goodbye, I pick up my bag and walk home. My thoughts are elsewhere, not on vacation, making notes on a pad of paper. Past Aquila Books on 16 Ave, their fabulous window display, Bell Jar, $250, silvered ("and what, then, is the point of this" I wonder...), odd scientific instruments, beautiful and curious things that jog the imagination, 10 years of garage sale finds at 100 times the price but it's an inspiration to look, and I wonder what treasures (if any) I'll turn up on my vacation....
And now, 2:33 AM day 1 of vacation, outside there's heat lightning, light splashes of rain, I'm writing on the computer, time passes...