Home
Valentines 2016 - (2)
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2418
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...
Most. Embarrassing. Ever.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Conversations
- Hits: 2093
A person I know, probably not my son...
1 Week. Spring Break. He's not having a good time. Home to visit family, friends, to Calgary, he's finding that he has less and less in common with everyone he once knew. Friends, they're boring and conservative. They go for drinks...
The clubs, he wants to hit HiFi on my recommendation, they're happy at the National. Chalk and Cheese. And, being outnumbered, he invariably capitulates, the nights grow long and without purpose. I understand, been out with those friends, but we have the bars we compromise on, The Ship and Anchor springs to mind...and failing compromise I'll just say "Fuck it, see you later". The National, on 10th, a good source of vacuously good looking bimbos and juice monkeys, I'll do it for an hour, tops, then we gotta find someplace a little more interesting, this isn't my scene, not by a long-shot...his rare nights out are wasted...
There's a Burlesque show at Arts Commons, U of C, the point of burlesque, adult humor, ribald, suggestive, naughty, sexy, fun, erotic, but it doesn't cross the line into pornography, imagine a more sophisticated striptease where the girls get to keep all of their dignity and some of their clothes and you have the idea...a civilized but rambunctious night out, I urge him to go, I'll pay, I can't or I would, I have to work (Always, always, but spring is coming and the plan is brewing...), He tries to persuade his friends to come, he'll pay, they don't want to, think it's perverted. He's irate beyond measure, wants only to get back to Victoria...
An excellent example of what he probably didn't miss:
{embed:youtube:BpQjks_ujwQ}
I completely get it. It's the old Thomas Wolfe - "You can't go home again...".
I'd given him a set of portable lockpicks for Xmas, hidden inside a bogus credit card, for emergency use, or practice, the thought, inspiration, that he might become a double nought spy...he got busted with them flying from Victoria here, interrogated, released, he's not flown with them since, decides he's going to practice. On with a pair of old handcuffs...
Nobody with a high-school education should find themselves in handcuffs for longer than 5 minutes. No child of mine, anyways, the quick release and then vengeance, but the gaps in my parenting are soon exposed....I'd never taught him how to pick handcuffs, you don't need lockpicks, they're for the barrel-tumbler locks, like doors and padlocks and such, for handcuffs a bent piece of wire, a paperclip would suffice, or slender aluminum shank, to slide between the ratchets...
Half an hour later the cuffs had grown so tight the circulation to his hands is cut off, they began to swell, turn purple, he drives himself to the police station. They can't help, their keys don't work, they're not amused. From here to the firehall, where the firemen eventually use bolt cutters to remove them.
If he'd of called me, I could have told him how, but then, being in that situation would not be the position to call me from. I get it. He tells the story without any sheepishness, he's resigned, knows exactly how it appears, I laugh, it's without a doubt the best story I've heard in a while...
For future reference. Practice picking handcuffs before putting them on. When you've mastered that, then put them on and pick them. When you've mastered that, practice picking them when they're on behind your back. And if you haven't mastered it, for god's sake, keep a set of keys handy...
There are a couple of morals here, one, if you find yourself in any way needing the assistance of the police or fire department things have probably gone very wrong for you. And two, maybe don't go to the police for help...they aren't generally of any reasonable assistance.
I try to reassure him, he's bright, I can understand this, we've all been in similar positions...
"Don't worry...(the daughter) will be the rocket scientist. You just work on being an actor...."
A giant snowdrift blocking the road
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2091
I'm in my father's house, not house, living there, there's Uncle B**** and P**, at the end of a hall there's an antique phone, land line...Uncle P** tells me to call this number, it's a scam or something, as soon as I lift the receiver there's a voice telling me that I've done something wrong and the police have been dispatched.
We shrug, we've done nothing wrong...
I can't seem to find my room, opening doors, so many doors, he's let out some of the rooms to strangers, I see beds in each of the rooms, otherwise bare...
I'm drinking cranberry juice and soda, we have a soda machine, don't know why, I'm thirsty, but can't seem to quench the thirst, no matter how much ice I add the juice is never cold enough...
...driving, in my jeep, following a car, cutting across the states from Montana through Idaho and into Washington...the road is full of snow, the car ahead of me is trying to speed but the road is too slippery, I'm in no rush and back off, through a tunnel, exiting the road is completely blocked by a snow drift, an ice cave follows the general direction of the road, but it's impassable, you can see the colors of daylight through the snow above, I get out to take a picture, get my phone, this would be a great panorama, but my fingers, they're not working as they should, I can't seem to get the passcode in, the phone/camera isn't working...
Valentines 2016
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2339
Another Valentines in Hospitality. That's OK, need the cash, these are the first busy days in over a month.
It started Thursday, the early trickle of Valentines couples on errant schedules, hoping to avoid the rush or the special menu pricing, alternate lifestyle couples that have more than a single person to pass Valentines with and so their whole weekend will be taken up, and sensible diners who know damn well this isn't a weekend to dine out...
Friday, busy, as above. Saturday, the countless couples, and the almost as many no shows, people who call around and book reservations at as many restaurants as they can, then decide where they'll spend Valentines. They don't let us know, and don't answer the phone when we call to confirm. Like every year I've ever been there, we never fill. One table even tries to walk-in, no reservation, we have room, but that's some audacity and poor planning...
For most of these people this is a rare night out. They're on tight budgets, drink water, skip the appetizers, you can dine with us for pretty reasonably, comparatively. Duty bound husbands and spouses, couples, but for all the hype I don't get the love off even a single table. Comfort, complacency, but Love, well, it's a lot harder to find.
We have few regulars here this weekend, most know better. But there's a few, one, ordering expensive wine, $200 bottle, 3 people, over $600 bill, he brings a couple of us glasses of wine to share, steps out, runs to the florists, buys a few dozen roses (and these at Valentine's Pricing), then comes back to the restaurant to give them to some of the customers, his dates, the female kitchen staff, he's brightening a lot of lives and he knows it, he's a champion...
Tomorrow, the relentless onslaught of deuces, Sunday, traditionally closed but we're opening for this, already booked solid, but as we should have learned by now appearances are deceiving. I'm, we all are, Valentines free this year, it comes with the job, the territory, but so far, this year, I'm kind of glad...
Page 694 of 1086