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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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He was, for a time, the leader of the ruling class of Alberta. I don't mention sensitive names. His autographed picture hangs on the wall of the restaurant.
As a customer he was a disappointment, cheap, tightfisted, classic member of his "class".
They come in, bluff that they have a reservation "You can mark it off" his guest tells me, there's no reservation, and while usually I'd be open to the possibility we made a mistake, with these people I know better, still, I play along.
He has a haughty look, arrogant, dislikeable upon first glance, raises my back somehow, I think I recognize him, check the photos on the wall, sure enough...
He led the party, briefly, into flames and ruin. The Party, that had ruled Alberta for 40 years, he, the elected final leader, so personifying the party, the arrogance, corruption, he the face of privilege, ignorance, scorn, corruption, his was the face the party wore to their grave.
***
Following the election, and his party's complete annihilation, he came for dinner. And one of our customers (all of our customers are party members) stood and told him what they thought, in front of his family, told him in no uncertain terms and with colorful adjectives what he thought of his leadership, what he'd done to the party. We moved them to the private room. He suffered it unfazed, true, he'd single-handedly brought down an empire, by single-handedly personifying every one of their corrupt influences...
***
The second-last to leave table, 8:30, they ask "Is that so-and-so...former ..." and I apologize, yes, it is, we don't discriminate our customers, really, we should...
He stays another 2 and a half hours after close, tips 12%. Oblivious to every social clue that every nitwit, any nitwit would recognize, they don't care, we are open for them and them alone, and this ignorance, it's the perfect metaphor to his governance of the party, to the party itself...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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Really, it's none of my business, but the politics in the US have global influence. And I'm not really criticizing or judging them, at least not for Americans, they can do their own research, they've abundant resources, shit, if they're online and reading this they've got the internet and there's no excuse...
But as an observer, Canadian, with the same interest every other country on earth has in their elections and politics, this is what I think is gonna happen:
#1) Donald Trump will win the Republican Nomination, and be their candidate.
#2) Either Hillary or Bernie Sanders will win the Democrat Nomination. I'm hoping (?) guessing Bernie Sanders. He appears to have some intelligence, wit and reason behind him.
#3) Appalled and Dismayed by the possibility or even thought of Donald Trump becoming President (!!!), most reasonable, intelligent and educated Republicans will vote Democrat. A very slight shift, but enough to turn the election.
PREDICTION: BERNIE SANDERS WILL BE THE NEXT PRESIDENT OF THE USA.
That said, it will be interesting regardless. So strap on your seatbelts and prepare for the ride...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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Monday, we've a notice hanging on the front of the restaurant, City of Calgary, Emergency Water Main Break, a few discreet inquiries, a call to 311, no water for 24 to 72 hours. We haven't got a single reservation.
The owner's debating, arguing with himself, whether it's better to close or be open...
He wants to close. He could do things. No water, that's serious, we discover at intervals all the things we can't do without water...
The Espresso machine. It has a reservoir, but depends on water pressure to push the water through. No Espresso.
Pop. Juice. It all needs to be diluted with water, it comes through the gun as sticky syrup....
Dishwashing, flushing toilets, bathrooms, sinks, even just water for the tables...
We pin notices on the front, back of the restaurant, the nephew and I try to look concerned, like it's a bad thing, Gee, Whiz, we really wanted to work and this is so disappointing, The owner, he's playing the same game, we all don't want to look overly enthusiastic but hell, an unexpected night off, on a night with no reservations, it's a gift from heaven...sure hope they fix that water main soon we're thinking...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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With the unseasonably warm weather we're forced to search further afield for our skating destinations.
Last week we drove to Canmore, an hours skating, then back. A long drive for very little practice...
This week we find the indoor arena schedules - a different arena every day throughout the city. Yesterday, in the SW, Today, the NE, it's cheap, $6.20 a person, and you get an hour or two's practice on practically empty ice.
They've senior sessions as well, for the 50+ set, more of those than for the public, and while I hate to label myself, hate to acknowledge that I might have some connection with this group (I'm pretty sure I don't), I'll have to swing by one day to check it out, if only to ...
Strange, this, we're Canadian, and I imagine it's the midday hours that are keeping the ice empty. Or not. Maximum of 5 people on the rink at a time, we count as 2, Canada, we are, Canadians, losing our heritage, although I was impressed to see some less "Vanilla" Canadians teaching their children how to skate, play hockey, the little bastard, at 2 years old, is running down the ice in his helmet and hockey outfit faster than me, I can't help but be impressed, it's laughably cute, he's only a foot and a half tall...
She's getting better, much better, quickly, me, not so much, I was never that good to begin with. I observe some oddities, I'm better skating backwards than forwards, forwards I'm forever losing, finding my balance, backwards, well, backwards I'm fine. I need a couple of sessions on my own, without the pupil, to practice...
Curious this, the physical memory, remarkable even that it exists, my cells, the cells of when I last skated as a teen in high school, they've all died, been replaced, died, been replaced, a dozen times, yet still I retain some physical memory of how it's done, there's a naturalness to it, the physicality of it's carried forward, survived as what? Memory, composed of chemical signals? Electricity? How does it pass on, survive, the death of it's host, messengers, but perhaps a little esoteric and abstract for a posting on skating...to resume...
She's speeding up, teaching her to skate backwards, to lift her feet, practice the crossover steps, she's hesitant, small steps as her confidence increases, but she has her moments where her grin lights up the world and she smiles and waves to an invisible audience, and I have to wonder what's going on in her little brain...
"Stars on Ice is coming" she tells me, breathlessly, May 15, how does she know this? Really? I remember that, or Ice Capades, not sure which, does it matter? From when I was a child...thought of taking my own kids to it, but it somehow never happened...
So soon, the next week or two, the trip to Lake Louise, the reward for her progress, need to shuffle my days off, have to hurry as winter is disappearing fast everywhere, and need to get her up there before the ice melts and the Castle disappears, but she can live her little Canadian dream, and while to me, I take it for granted, it's lovely to be in the company of someone who appreciates it all so heartfelt and sincerely...for an hour or so you're out of yourself and seeing the world fresh through their eyes...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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Finally, the last day of Valentines. The day itself.
It pans out pretty much as expected.
Around 8 tables don't show up or call to cancel. Standard. We get walk-ins, on a Sunday night (we never open Sundays), people who pretend not to know that it's Valentines or Sunday and argue the set menu pricing before finally walking out again. I don't give them good odds for getting lucky later...
And we get the walk-ins that pretend to have a reservation, they don't, or we can't find, but we find them room...
...And then they complain that they weren't informed of the set-menu pricing, argue, and I can believe one, that we didn't record the reservation, but 2, well, that's a stretch. If you booked for Valentines Day we told you. If you tried to book for Sunday we told you we're closed or - that it was Valentines Day - and there was a set menu. Bollocks to this, the bullshit people will try. One mistake, for sure we could have made it, but this combination of no-reservation, no-knowledge of Valentines Day Set Menu, well, it's bullshit. Fuck off.
They stay and eat, drink hot water and lemon, tip $5.00 on 4 courses and a $200.00 bill. Not surprising, but if they could have ordered off the menu they would have spent $50.00 and tipped $5.00...
The couples, what you would expect, if you knew hospitality, a few couples, happy, celebrating the occasion, in love, not your own quality of love, not what you'd want by a long shot, but they each have what they were looking for, they're happy, and you're happy too...
A few, not so happy, this formal acknowledgement, it's the chance to air grievances, make inappropriate disclosures...one couple, the last to come in, both well dressed, he, a swart, burly young man, around 30 or so, her, late twenties perhaps, taller, (than him), lithe, angular features, possibly a paid date (we've already had a few of those, there are always those this time of year...and paid, what, really, is the difference between the payment over an evening or the payments over a lifetime that so many of our regulars find so much more socially acceptable...?). But they're talking and it's obvious they know one another...She's attractive, for sure, in a generic sort of way, but the nephew, he's astonished that she's out with him, can't figure it out...
By the second of their 4 courses they're the only table left in the restaurant. It's 10 PM on a Sunday night, I've sent everyone but myself home, just me and T*** and his girlfriend, we're talking, and this table, dawdling over their soups and salads...
And she's divulging, in cautious increments, about how their shared friend X doesn't know that they're dating, because it's on a need to know basis, and ...
This I overhear, I'm not eavesdropping, but you hear things dropping off food, pouring wine, water...and he's in trouble...predictably the conversation - and their tempers - take a turn for the worse...
Been there, done that, he's in big trouble, heading for a fall...reminds you of all the chumps that propose on Valentine's, and get declined, and at first you think the girl must be a heartless bitch, but if he's so misunderstood the relationship that he's convinced she'll say yes, if he's sooo conventional that he thinks a restaurant crowded with strangers all up to the same mischief is the high-mark of romance, well, then, probably he deserves it...
I talk with T***, a good regular, although he always stays later than you'd like, and we catch up. Turns out he'd worked for J***, one of our respectable businessmen customers, and had saved his ass with a few sexual harassment lawsuits...always good to know...By the time the "table" finishes dessert it's 12:00, and the message she was trying to send, so discreetly, has been received, he pays for the food and first bottle of wine, she pays for the second, dutch of sorts, and she's hurrying to get into her jacket, she's been on dates every night this long, long weekend you suspect, and probably they've all worked out pretty much the same...
We hear later rumor of a complaint, someone calling and demanding to speak to "the owner" at 8:30 AM on Monday, he merely hung up, Valentines, it's the perfect chance for the dissociated individual to realize that something's missing, vaguely wonder at the lack of connection with their partner, and find fault, not with their relationship or lover, but with the restaurant, the pricing, the ambiance, the service...
Now, Valentines over, the last predictable shitshow, should be clear sailing to summer...