Sunday, August 14, 2005

Three Things That Happened to Me Today

The AC/CD fan and I are standing at the bar a couple hours before service yesterday.
“So next week is going to have to be your last week.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Turns out [the woman I’m filling in for] is ready to come down and so that means next week has to be your last week.”
I knew that this was a temporary position, but I was under the impression that I’d be here at least two months. It turned out to be a month and a week. I’m confused.
“Okay. So I’m still at the top of the list if something becomes available on the serving staff.”
“Oh I thought you didn’t want that.”
Now I remember an off the cuff remark I made a week ago about how frustrating it was to work with some of the more headstrong members on staff (most of whom exhibit almost a total lack of desire to become better at their job). He took this comment more seriously than I did. This is when I started thinking about my dwindling bank account. I had a small brain aneurysm.
“No I do want to be here.” Part of me does. Part of me doesn’t. The part that likes eating and paying rent would prefer to have the job. We tend to not listen to other part.
“We’ll see what we can do.”
I called a restaurant I had turned down a job at a couple weeks ago and I’ll trail there on Tuesday. So maybe I won’t be out of a job long.

I had brunch today with my restaurant’s Wine Director. He’s a wonderful guy, funny and bright, and truly great at his job. As soon as we sit down, my former boss at the restaurant in the Time-Warner building walks in and is seated next to me. He’s sitting directly to the right of me. We obviously can sense each other and know that the other is aware of the other’s presence. What do we do? It’s not like I know this guy. So we decide not to engage each other at all. We both ordered the same thing. Very funny.

The girl is sitting next to me at the coffeehouse. She’s taking a momentary break from the hubbub. We’re chit-chatting tenuously. In this sort of nervous and odd tension filled moment, I usually do something I regret.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?”
She thinks. Her eyebrows furrow as she checks her mental date book.
“I think we should go to a double feature at the IFC CenterThunderbolt and Lightfoot and Jeremiah Johnson.”
What they hell do I do now? Help please.


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