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The School of Life
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Ideas & Questions
- Hits: 1926
I've been but I didn't make any notes. Not these notes, they actually describe me pretty well. Clearly I've got some work to do...
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They've got some good videos..
If you like and want to see more, try:
Ralphie
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2443
And Ralphie's in, with his child bride, 20 some years old, he's my age, trying to impress us, I'm not impressed, good-luck-buddy- easy to catch, hard to hold...
They have a kid, a year old or less, in a bassinet sat upon the table, I think about it, my life, starting again at 50, I have 2 already, no-way...
But Ralphie's putting a good face on it, doesn't know better, thinks he's impressing us.
They leave, tip well, cleaning up the table in the linen I find his phone.
He calls. He'll come and pick it up. "Not to worry" I assure him, "I''ll drop it off", he only lives a few blocks away. And I try to talk the nephew into dropping it off, he's done, it's polite, but the nephew will have none of it, he's got plans after work, he's busy, I excuse myself for 5 minutes, drive up, drop off Ralphies phone. He answers the door in his housecoat, bottle of Grey Goose in a little generic Xmas wrapping, this is his thank you, I decline but he urges me to take it, "It's only liquor", and I return to the restaurant with the trophy to show the nephew what an ass he was, a large return on a small effort...
More Mudlarking
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Found
- Hits: 2167
As winter is settled in and attempts at prospecting have failed (still too much snow, and it falls, still it falls) I fall upon YouTube to deliver me it's treasures.
Thank you Nicola White. Makes me want to return to London, if only to stroll the Thames...
Isabella's Faint
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1766
Isabella, the longstanding sous-chef, name in full only because nobody knows it, she's not front line, comes in twice a week to make Tiramisu, Oso Buco, do the prep work, she should be retired but...
...she runs into a cardboard box filled with Panettone, the hallways are tight, it struck her just beneath the eye and she imagines she sees blood...
...faints, first off, thank goodness it's not a busy lunch, she's lying on the floor, can't stand the sight of blood (or mice), imagines that she saw blood, there's no blood.
But she can't stand. The salad girl, the owner, they're on to her, we give her time to recover. Take her to the bathroom, show her her reflection - no blood, sit her down in a chair, she can't speak, won't speak, imagining her afterlife as a saint...
Eventually, 3 hours later, she's fit to leave. Doesn't need an ambulance, although we offered again and again, she feels she's fit to drive.
In the evening I reenact the days events for the mirth of the night chef and comrades...
We have a new salad girl, the old one left, she can't look at me and keep a straight face. Always she laughs, this is due, I suspect, to my little merry pranks that I play on her and her helpers. Luciana, older Italian lady, bawdy sense of humour, solid helmet of dyed red hair, sneaking up behind her to pinch her large ass with a pair of chef's tongs, she's screaming "Rape" in Italian at the top of her lungs, the salad girl merely doubles over in laughter...
...or putting a mouse, dead, caught in a trap, in a little container they use for things like cheese or olives, she shakes it up then opens it, sees it dead and curled, panics...
The owner, he quizzes me on this, I explain that I left it for the salad girl, she shouldn't have been nosy, was none of her business, the owner, he understands, it's her fault, the salad girl merely doubles over in laughter every time she sees me, Luciana, she threatens me with death. I shrug it off, you can't please everyone...
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