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Quitting Smoking
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 3196
Everyone in the restaurant is quitting smoking.
Zyban, Champix, they're all taking medications that are making it easier for them to quit.
I look them up. Side effects include, but are not limited to: dry mouth, headache, insomnia, rash, dizziness, agitation, anxiety, depression, taste disorder, constipation, nausea and vomiting and tremor, ringing in the ears, disturbance of vision, faster heart beat, confusion, chest pain, raised blood pressure and seizures.
Pretty much exactly what you could expect if you quit smoking cold turkey. And the success rate, it's about the same.
Then a customer comes into the restaurant, the owner greets him at the door. He's got a small oxygen kit with him, rubber tubes running from it up to his nose, The owner, he plays dumb...
"How are you? You look great...what's this?" (indicating the oxygen on the wheeler) ..."you just get back from vacation?".
They sit for a coffee. He comes to the bar to grab his own, he whispers to me under his breath "Ex smoker...".
They talk. The owner about how his quitting smoking is going, the Champix, the guest about how tough it is to get a lung transplant. He seems pretty upbeat, all things considered, if the government won't give him a new set of lungs he's going to go to the US or India, he needs a new lung. The owner, he's recommending he look for Pulmonary Surgeons in Cuba...
I gotta quit smoking.
Strange markings on the pavement
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2121
This morning, I wake up, notice outside on the pavement in front of the house strange markings. Painted symbols and arrows towards the house, It's like I've been marked by hobos, or singled out for some ritualistic murder, the symbols to identify me to the initiates, the truth is much more mundane. The new landlord has gotten his designs approved, there will be an eviction order pending...
And I have a damned lot of shit to move.
Vintage Navy Blue Overcoat
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2025
Day off.
Trip to the local thrift shops - today's find - a vintage navy blue overcoat, double breasted with a high collar, 3/4 length, a row of brass buttons on each lapel, (anchor and Canada logo). Heavy, maybe 20 pounds.
It's expensive, close to $50.00, but it's a sale day and I can have it for 60% off. Which, in my world, is still expensive, by I'm seduced by the false economy of the word "Sale", and I've rather come to detest my old overcoat, the muted, nondescript checks, lack of cut and color ...
I try it on. It's excellent. By which I mean I now resemble some sort of Japanese anime character, or with the right lighting (dim) and the collar turned up, a teen vampire. I check with the sales assistant. She agrees that the coat is indeed excellent, but is reluctant to go on record as saying I look like a teen vampire... "One of the lost boys, maybe" she offers helpfully, she's loathe to commit to the word "teen"...
I leave my old overcoat behind. This will be the new me ... (photos will follow)
Sense of Urgency
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2176
We've been trying out a few waiter and waitresses to fill a new vacancy on the team.
Now this restaurant, it needs experienced waiters. People who know what they're doing. But we've tried a few that were experienced and they didn't work out. So we try somebody new. He's Chilean, good looking, young, "experienced" as he tells us.
I go through the drill with him today. I explain the rules, treat him as if he's never done it before. He has, in New Zealand, which is to say he hasn't really.
I explain "Sense of Urgency" and "Walk with a sense of purpose". He nods as if he's understanding, but he's not really.
It's a shame, I rather like him, he's amiable enough.
I explain to him the rule of never leave the kitchen empty handed, and never walk into the kitchen empty handed.
He doesn't understand this. I explain further, he gives up and pretends to understand.
Some people don't get it. They're suited for jobs that pay them a flat rate by the hour. They're innately laid back, nothing stresses them out. They'd be great on construction sites or working for the Union.
Waiters, they're not concerned with their hourly rate of pay, they get paid nothing per hour. They're concerned with getting the job done as quickly as possible and going home. The hourly rate, it's a pittance, it doesn't matter. They're paid (in theory) by the customers for how well and how swiftly they do their job.
The Chilean, he doesn't get it. I explain it to him again, I like him, he's personable enough, bright, and I try to share the "Sense of Urgency" with him, his job depends on it, he still doesn't get it, moseying slowly through the dining room, missing obvious details and service points...
He'd probably work out really well at an Earl's.
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