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They find me...

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Miscellany

Published: 19 March 2010

Hits: 2017

So I'm sitting on the bus, on my way to work, minding my own business, when the bus stops and goes to discharge it's passenger a short black guy, cool looking, makes his way to the back of the bus where I'm sitting and gives me a torn sheet of newsprint. 

He's made notes on the back of it. "Check it out" he tells me, then exits the bus. 

I look at the newspaper. It's a torn square from one of the free downtown daily's, with a handwritten list of "links" I should visit.

They find me...

I'll share them with you:

Google.ca "YouTube"

• 1) Dr. Deefat
• 2) Dr. Zackir
• 3) Dr. Khalid Yasin
• 4) The Deen Show
• Try Zem & HNY 2090 

Moving

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Miscellany

Published: 15 March 2010

Hits: 2239

The strange signs on the pavement, markings, notices banded to trees proved strangely prophetic: my landlord declined my offers of 2 months rent, took only a month and served me my notice, the house is to be torn down and an infill put up in it's place.

Which explains, to some extent, my absence. Long days of packing boxes, borrowed trucks, cars, the finding of a new place and the moving of ones possessions to a new location...

And while I've found a new place, expensive and on the north side of Calgary, I'm not yet unpacked, and between working, the tribulations of dealing with Shaw cable and the moving I've not found a moment to blog. Another 2 weeks and it will be more regular again, for the time being it's the slow unpacking of the too many millstones about my neck, the rearranging of furniture, laundry, settling in around a grueling work schedule.

I'll catch up, I promise.

Fucking Asshole

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Miscellany

Published: 08 February 2010

Hits: 2583

He calls to make a reservation. I take it. I try to get a phone number, it's routine when you take a reservation; he doesn't like this, he'll be there, we "Know who he is", the owner, he "Knows who he is", still he reluctantly gives it, something about his tone, his manner, tells me he's an asshole.

I make a mental note of his name, of the reservation, I want to get a good look, want to remember this asshole.

He calls back later to cancel the reservation, reschedules it to Saturday.

I notice his name in the book, it's a busy night, still, will have to remember to swing by the table, get a look at him.

It's a damned busy night and I forget, but my memory is jogged by the new waiter telling me about an asshole he's got in his section who's told him in no uncertain terms that we definitely have "Absolut" vodka, because that's what he drinks and he's had it here before. Now me, I'd just bring him the house vodka, because that's the nice thing about vodka, whatever the brand, it's indistinguishable from any other vodka, vodka, by definition, is without flavour or taste. If he wants to believe it's Absolut he can, because, by very definition and the fact that it's vodka, it tastes the same as any other lesser priced vodka.

But the waiter has slipped up and told him we don't have Absolut and so he's had asshole rip a strip from him.

It's OK, asshole doesn't like his table, will be moving to my section as soon as a table frees up. And the vodka, it was a clue, and I check the book and sure enough his asshole is the same asshole that I spoke to taking the reservation on the phone.

Asshole is in my section.

He's with a couple of guests, a female partner, another big gentleman. Asshole is shorter, fat, older. He's unhappy that the hostess had the audacity to confirm he had a reservation before seating him, we're fully booked tonight, she should have known who he is. He talks to his guests about this, loudly so that I, so that the other customers, can overhear.

The food is brought out. Asshole is unhappy that the girl who runs the food doesn't know that his wife gets a certain dish, tells her so, she can go to hell this ignorant food runner.

And at the end of service, when they've finished their meal, when all the tables have finished their meals, the owner comes out to chat with the customers, ensure that everything's OK. 

He stops by Asshole's table, he knows asshole....

Asshole tells him he's got too many tables in the restaurant, it's Saturday night and it's not private enough for him.

And Asshole, who's been rude to every staff member he's dealt with since entering the restaurant, since making the initial reservation over the phone, asshole has taken it just that little bit too far. Sometimes assholes don't know when to quit. And the owner, who's suddenly had enough of this asshole, loudly shouts:

"Getta this fucking asshole outa my restaurant...I've had it....Fucking-a enough of this fucking-a asshole!"

Loudly shouts. Loud enough that the entire restaurant, the entire, full restaurant, hears.

They look shocked. They slouch a bit in their seats, try to look like it wasn't them that he was speaking to. Maybe it was another table. They shrink. He's at the bar now, the owner, and he repeats himself to the entire restaurant.

"I want this fucking asshole out of my restaurant NOW!"

And they look around and there's no confusion, every table is looking at them and it's a small world, this restaurant, most of the customers know the other customers, and they try to save face by looking like the reasonable customers in the face of the tyrannical restaurant owner; 

"I guess we should go..." suggests asshole meekly to his guests, and they agree.

He's got it right this time, the owner, and I'm surprised that we all don't applaud as they meekly get their coats and go.

One of the tables, the not-so-regulars, is shocked, they think it's appalling the owner would do this to his guests, and ask me to explain what just happened. And I explain it like this: That it is appalling, but that is how he's run his business for 30 years and everyone knows the rules. And that the person he's so violently expelled has been rude to every staff member he's dealt with since entering the establishment, and that there's more than just a little support on behalf of the staff. That asshole has taken it a bit too far, as asshole's often will, and has just been rude to the wrong person. And so while it's appalling this, wouldn't the world be a better place if we all told the assholes to just fuck off?

They understand and let the information digest.

He was a fucking asshole.

**Note. I Googled the name of the customer and while I'm dying to share it with you, discretion forbids. I wouldn't want to be accused of in any way slandering or impugning his good character. Suffice it to say that he's a prominent Calgary lawyer, specializing in litigation.  And since there can't be that many lawyers that are a) Assholes or b) Specializing in litigation you should be able to narrow it down...