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It used to be that you couldn't discuss Sex, Religion or Politics.
Used to be. In the Olden Days of Yore. Now: "I like to bugger goats" is a perfectly acceptable introduction and no one is in the least offended by the title of Mr./Mrs Goat Buggerer.
Religion is essentially Child Buggery, which still seems to offend the majority, so bringing it up merely solicits agreement that it's bad, and on Politics everyone agrees to disagree.
But try and bring up "Science" or "Medicine" and see how quickly you're ostracized...I mean, just try it!
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The September long, long, loooooooong weekend finally past and I'm done.
This year - every year, longer than the last, longer like no other.
Monday night, a wrap, meet up with the owner's son in town for a beer. It's back to work Thursday, by myself, open to close, but the major rushes, insane business, they're done, it should be manageable.
SHOULD BE.
I've a try-out tonight at another job, a bistro/winebar in town, better food. Shorter hours - a lot shorter. 6, sometimes 7 hours per day, vs, the 10, 11, 12 I'm doing now. And a ten minute walk from home, not a 30 minute drive in a jeep that no longer runs.
I need this. I need some balance in my life, and as much as I'm loathe to work on a day off this may be my ticket out of there.
They won't take it well, nevermind, I'm too sensitive to this - there were weeks I worked more than he and his wife did together, and I'm done. Never again. Done working with the wife who somehow thought the ice well, water jugs all magically refilled themselves, that the fruit would cut itself if you left it long enough, that there were fairies that popped out of the walls to bus the tables for her. Too many times I've busted my ass to stop and catch my breath and discover that in fact I had only 3 tables and all my running was caused by her...
And the son, well, he'd have to show up for me to comment, and- for a good bulk of the summer he managed not to.
"Congratulations" he says to me..."We made it...".
No. I made it, the donkey with the carrot on the stick in front of him, he - the person riding the donkey. "We" didn't make it.
Anyways, tryout tonight, hopefully new doors opening to smaller, more manageable rooms, and there's always that sadness when you leave something behind but - it's time.
It's time.
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The last few weeks, cooler, rainy, in the evening downright cold. AN early start to autumn, no complaining after all the heat and smoke and misery of a too brief summer.
Counting down the days until the end of the September long weekend- when business, as usual, will drive off the first of many cliffs and the owners will give their head a shake and reconsider the "Open all winter...".
The last few days - Friday most notably, but then on through the weekend - business much slower. MUCH slower.
Not 3 or 4 waiter days, more 1.2, 1.5 waiter days. Busier than one can handle, slow for 2. The mask mandates have driven away the Albertans, most sensible people are declining to dine in, our business is switching to take away. And so while I've been dreading this, the last few days, it might have all been for naught.
Around the restaurant, the owner's son, his wife, they're together taking every other day off. Wigglesworth - our investment in a hefty little heifer from Trail, failed, she couldn't close numerous nights - birthday parties, family events, had to leave early, then couldn't come to work one day - was nervous driving in the rain, then, following payday had her mother call in with a "CRISIS" - her mother - !!!! FOR FUCKS SAKES!!!! WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE!!!!????
Anyways, a "Domestic Abuse" situation, or so we're told, probably a fight over the last dilly-bar in the fridge or some other such nonsense, I've run out of any sort of compassion for these people - the best job she'll ever have, never have again, and she's quit.
So down to me and the absent owner's son and his absent wife.
5 days to go, and then we'll see what's up.
The weather, it improves my mood, and now walking a great deal more than I'd like - well, time a bit to think and make other plans. Plans for the winter, plans for moving, plans to find some wheels, all sorts of plans, the gears are turning and I've only 2 months to get my shit together...
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Last week, a new fuel filter. I'd set out on a trip to Revelstoke, thrifting, exploring, maybe some prospecting, but the Jeep sputtered, lost power, and somewhere around New Denver I came to my senses and decided it would be a lot better to break down nearer to home.
Turn around, plans abandoned.
Change the fuel filter.
This seems to fix things for a bit, but there's something new, always a new surprise under the hood. This a shaking and rattling as the Jeep changes gears. This, you can tell while riding, will be no trivial thing. So call and make an appointment with the mechanics.
"Maybe a U-Joint" they tell me. Fingers crossed.
Of course it's not a U-Joint, it's the transmission, it's shot. Completely. Add to this various oil leaks, seals, no suspension in the back end, shocks, welding...
And the grand total will be $5200. Roughly.
The answer is, of course, no, it should have been no a long time ago. $8000 in repairs in a little over a year and the jeep is still going over a fucking cliff, I could have been driving a new Wrangler - all the time, not just every other week - for the same as I've put into this. So - for this year - the gathering and prospecting is largely done, time now to address my income and find the means to level up my wheels.
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Mask mandate after mandate, lockdown after lockdown, we're being doomed by half measures.
Out, around Nelson, everyone doing the right thing. The required thing. Wear your mask into a crowded restaurant until you're sat, then take it off for an hour to visit.
Doctors, Nurses, protesting against getting a vaccine. How is this a thing? If you work in a hospital this should be a requirement - not debatable - just as during the great AIDS pandemic adult actors wore condoms or provided testing proof that they were HIV free. Yet Nurses, orderlies, etc. should be able to decide whether or not they get a vaccine?
Mother fuckers, your average porn star has more common sense than some of these loons.
Old folks homes, assisted care facilities - still reporting outbreaks amongst unvaccinated workers - HOW CAN YOU ALLOW AN UNVACCINATED VISITOR OR EMPLOYEE INTO THESE PLACES?
We are doomed.
Police in Toronto protesting mandatory Vaccines. They are civic employees - how is it a requirement you be vaccinated to go work remotely at Camps up North and yet the governments own employees are clamoring for a free pass?
And restaurants. The passport - demanding customers have vaccine passports - but what about the staff? And this is tricky - because - an awful lot of staff in restaurants haven't got their vaccine. Refuse to get it. For any number of reasons, the vast majority entirely stupid - but - if it were a requirement many restaurants - already short staffed - would be forced to close.
Every country reporting rising numbers, largely due to the unvaccinated spreading it, more and more breakthrough cases, vaccinated people getting it, subtle adaptations as it mutates, multiplies and spreads. We've allowed the stupid to speak to science as if their opinions were fact, as if they deserved an equal listen, as if common sense were political, an imposition on their freedoms, we're becoming victims of an excess of compassion, and this will drag on and on and on...
This is the pandemic without end.
Subcategories
Dating
OK. I've been on a few internet dates. I confess this with the same reluctance I would admitting to masturbating, adultery, or excessive drinking and drug use.
This is a list of some of my best -- AND WORST -- dates ever. Note that you gotta go on a lotta dates to get this kinda list, this kinda discouraged. And my online dating thing has been sporadic - an every few years kind of thing at best. Some of these dates go back 10 years, others are a little more recent. And to answer any people who might argue "It beats hooking up at the bar", well, you don't have to hook up at the bar, and at the bar you can see what your getting...
Anyways - apologies to the countless normal, decent dates that I went on but just didn't hit it off with. Memory is selective, it tends towards the extreme, and in this you will find the extremes...
Dear Osama
In which I write everyone's favorite advice columnist.
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