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The Dream of T***
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 934
A few nights ago I had a peculiar dream of T*** (new waitress). That I was sitting with the in-laws, real neck-beard types, who were eating some sugar/crystalline dessert, and she was telling me we'd slept together and these were now my in-laws and that I had to run across town to get them a different dessert they wanted...
And I was arguing with her, explaining I was pretty sure I'd remember sleeping with her...
(It was weird, but after working with her last night I understood - she was fucking me (not that way) and getting all of the benefits, while I was seeing none...)
And, to add to the misery...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 775
An apartment entirely bereft of furniture, trips to the locker, slowly emptying it of 5(!! So Far) big boxes of Stormy Scrolls, boxes of irrelevant art supplies - including 8 egg beaters, (I needed one, and eventually ended up with 8, and the locker is still half full), 2 rolling pins (I'll probably use a dozen), clock parts, candlesticks, paints, sort and organize, time only to go through the groceries I never got time to eat and throw out what's old and mouldering, go to the store and buy more, one day I'll have time to cook a meal, really I will...
Out of Internet...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 861
And I ran out of internet 10 days before my cycle, scrolling through Facebook Marketplace not finding furniture for my apartment. I refuse to pay the $100/month to Telus or Shaw, especially when there's a dozen networks showing up in my apartment with 5 bars. I need to meet a neighbor and pay cash for a wifi password, split the bill, I don't know why all the neighbors don't it, what's the point of living in subsidized housing and squandering all your money on internet and TV?
The Salty Waiter
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 600
This morning, a review calling me "Salty".
Which is true, last night, working with T***, who has the same abilities as the Mother in Law, only a lot prettier and infinitely more charming.
The owners had put their heads together and told me to just work until close and call T*** off for the night, and I reminded them that we've been busy the last few weeks, being the only show open and all, and that if it proved slow I'd send her.
It didn't prove slow, it would have been reasonably busy for 2 people. Only one comes in and does more damage than good, standing talking to one table while I seat three tables, expedite food for two, then bus two of her tables, then watch her run over to the ones I just sat and grab orders, making them effectively "hers". Her next visit will be at the till to chat them up while they pay the bill and tip.
She pours 6 glasses of foam then leaves them on the bar, complaining the beer won't work. I pour her beer. She complains of the fruit flies, as if she can't see them and pluck them out with a straw, the doors here, always open, it would be impossible to keep them all out.
I've become too much the donkey. The idiocy of dumping it all on me, or pairing me with T***, who will be a great waitress when we stop having tables...
So anyways, yeah, I'm a bit salty...
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